Terry Adams is an experimental artist re-discovering and applying old techniques and developing new ones to solve the challenges that each picture presents.
Oil Pastel on card.
Grey ingots of first light
are picked up by the azure glove of day
and thrust into the golden embers of the setting sun
before being melded into day upon the ringing black anvil of night.
T. Adams 2015
The singer’s voice speaks,
it is not essential to understand the words
it is enough to be captured by the beauty of the sound , we stand transfixed in our own personal mindscape of the pitch, cadence, rhythm,
Oh! – The simplicity of vibration.
As a child whistling with my brother amazed at the distortion created when the two frequencies clashed what an experience existing yet spawned by neither of us.
This image is offered to as a homage to that, which does not exist but is there,
Without light the word is not visible, if the book remains closed, although that inside which exists it is not seen.
And yet as an image it sings its own song.
Jewels of the Morning