Cooked Oranges
Poetic inspiration continues to be a mystery to me, but I am its deep advocate, and hold to its irrational and shady acreage l…
Of course Cooked Oranges sounds like Orange Marmalade, and then it doesn’t, or at least it seems to flitter back and forth, for me at least, as somewhat incongruous. As incongruous perhaps as the water seller of Marrakech having an eagle’s head, but at the Djama F’na anything can and does happen… (Funny, I kept an earlier version of this collage where the water seller’s head is as it should be, and the collage is dead… as soon as I added the eagle’s head, with its golden light, the collage burst into life.)