By the Altar

The watching game is there, but who is watching whom?
I stand and sketch like no one can see me, yet feel the gazes of the room.
Should not the altar occupy those minds and pens that freely draw ahead
The flawless beauty never shy to bare her forms from toe to head?
Yet naked flesh feels not obtrusively unclad as it’s the way it’s bred.
It is the mind that plays its tricks with such a shy, young, silly lad.

300x100cm, Oil on canvas, MMXVII

Three square canvasses – quite blue.

The voyeur is in the shadows – a shadow of himself.

The altar with a beautiful, well shaped muse.

And You.

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