Dion Johnson, Moonlight, 2009

Dion Johnson, Moonlight, 2009

Taffy color, stretched and poured, but self-confident somehow. This color knows where it’s going; knows what it’s about. Writes with a Mont Blanc, but kicks around in Toms. Has struck a balance between curve and line, between cool and hot. Can be pulled and persuaded, but also stands its ground.

Dion Johnson, Dart, 2011

Dion Johnson, Dart, 2011

Whoosh. I hear the sound of meetings, calls and deadlines whooshing past. At breakneck speed with a hot orange urgency. Blows my hair back. I adjust my aviators. I don’t mind, I’m on a plane to California. I’ll let this color land where it will. I’m landing in San Jose.

4 Comments on “Whoosh”

  1. artquench says:

    We love your work.

    • heatherit says:

      Do you write with a Mont Blanc and wear Toms too? Grin. Thanks so much! I inhabit a strange little hole between art journalism and art criticism. A creative art hobbit? Sans the hairy feet.

  2. SigO says:

    the only thing that moves more quickly than client demands and deadlines on the day before a vacation is the plane taking off the next morning. I’m stoked doesn’t even begin to describe how ready I am for some homegrown Cali wine, while gallivanting around Big Sur. Is that the phone ringing? Sorry, I’m tied up in a meeting… ALL WEEK. peace out.

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