Exhaustion. The result of too many late nights and early mornings. Which are the result of a hoard of twenty-somethings camping at the house. It's been a long time since I was twenty, and the hours they keep are brutal. I am looking forward to an appropriately geriatric bedtime this evening.
This piece is a response to the prompt: ANGER. It was a particularly difficult challenge, as I have spent decades giving anger the big boot, mostly by making sure I expressed it instead of letting it fester, but also by taking things less personally whenever possible.
As I painted, the music playing contained the lyric (and now title to this piece) give voice to the fire. Ah. There it was. So I allowed fire to be the catalyst for the art (see early in the process photo on the right). After many twists and turns, I felt the fire slowly calming, softening, sputtering, turning into embers in the sky until all was calm again. The last voice of the fire whispers in the night sky.
Until then, happy turkeyness to you, dear reader! Wishing you a full belly and the joy of family. I am off to drag my large suitcase out of the attic. :)