Mark Thompson




Walk, January - March 1997
Oil and shellac on canvas
139.5 x 254 cms


The focus of my work is a particular landscape; the fen lands of east anglia. The sensation and memory of this reclaimed land hold a very distinct feeling; relentless, an imperceptible yet unstoppable momentum, a never-ending conflict between water and earth. These silent, invisible phenomena provoke an intangible feeling of connection and through the process of painting, I hope to communicate this.



I can remember
startling light
water
suddenly stops; church
fence.
Today is different. There is music
and cold wind, strong wind
horses.
Looking
perfectly round tree
barbed wire, bleached scrubby grass - bone dry.
Wet dark earth,
pylon sounds like a continuous gong.
Horses
hard earth and gravel
like a child feels
water
puddles
pebble lined
fence field.
Trees so huddled and stunted


Ground
red like brick
so much dust
sky is heavy. Air seems alive. Rain soon
rushes losing their colour; canŐt reach them
I remember
I want to go home
steep bank. Cold
hands too cold to grip