Category: Art of Terry Adams
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Water lilies will soon be here
Soon the water lilies will be here and nymphs will dance as if on air.
. oil on canvas by Terry Adams
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Dyslexia painting explained “Numeric Symphony in Red”
The following comment has often been asked,of me
“Although I appreciate and like the visual impression and impact that your dyslexia images on me, I do not have dyslexia tendencies and simply do not understand them could you please explain what they are about.”
Whilst there is an argument that art does not need to mean anything, it simply exists in its own space and time, fulfilling it’s own unique identity, I recognize the need of individuals to classify and understand, with this in mind I aim to in the next few posts to explain some of the thinking behind each Piece Todays featured piece is, one of my favorite pieces from my exhibition held during Dyslexia awareness week ” Numeric symphony in Red”
Numeric Symphony in Red Whilst researching and developing the ideas behind these pieces for the exhibition I happened to be speaking to a University lecturer, and friend of mine who happened to mentioned that whilst he does not have issues with letters but he does with Number. So much so that when he looks at a numbers in tabular form the come together and start to dance before his eyes.
Numeric symphony in Red is an attempt to replicate this phenomenon .
In this piece the number 01-99 are represented in tabular form. Each number was vertically dissected and back half of the number joined front half of the next number. Creating numeric couples coming together as if in dance. Interestingly enough people with dyslexic tendencies seem to see the number immediately without explanation.
I am rather pleased with the effect whilst the The dark areas represent the negative spaces between each set of dancing numbers they seem to impart an primeval harmony to the piece.
If this piece stimulates any questions or requires any further information or explanation please ask away.
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Edinburgh Fringe Old Town Mosaic
Night searches the streets, lanes and vennels of old Edinburgh, looking, searching for light to paint with shades darkness, revelers follow with steps of gaiety first words then laughter are heard only to be replaced by an inviting, enticing taunting, riff come join me, followed by another then another, until the old town is fragmented into a mosaic of bricks and sound.
A moment of mirth, a memory is captured within a sphere of latex carried on the wind, tethered by some arcane actinic thread reflected from some hidden light source, escaping from a window like a thief into the cold night air.
In the blink of an eye it will all be surrendered to the realm of light, and the old town, once more will dance to the rhythm and beat of a different drum.