Last week, I started a new painting.
Tonight, some horns came out. Drippy horns. It feels like a battle is ensuing. There is a lot of red.
I’m not quite sure where this one is headed. I’m wandering around a bit in paint, trying to find my footing.
As I wander, I keep thinking about this poem I wrote a while back (the horns are the tie-in). I’m not sure yet if this poem is indicative of where the painting will end up, but for tonight at least, there seems to be a connection.
————–
The Battle
two bulls slamming heads, we are
i feign disinterest
backing away while looking over my shoulder
nostrils subtly flaring with your thick scent
you said
it was up to me
to shift the battle
into lovemaking
you would fight
long and hard
if i kept pawing at the dirt
your silent question
between gritted teeth, tensed muscles
and the stare of hard, black eyes
is if i will err on the side of trust,
releasing boundaries
that fit like a tough suit of skin
it seems i may have met my match
in this game
of egos and attraction
