Fresco Poem

I pick up a piece of card
shiny white on one side,
buff manilla on the other.

I use the manilla
- a warm ground.
I spread on a bit of paint - orange
-very matte like suede or velvet.
It's soft - luminous.
A little later I return
and paint a watery green.
It soaks into the almost dry orange,
which takes the paint willingly.
They glow naturally.

The brushstroke is lost in the surface.
Some parts of the green are brushy
- dissolving into the orange,
whilst others have a clear, crisp definition.

The soft green-orange area has a brown-ness
which works with the card colour.

I leave the card and return to other matters in the studio.

When the surface wants the paint,
it seems to magically take it from the brush
as I apply the colour.

Other times though, it seems to reject it
and the paint looks awkward,
and I feel heavy handed

- the struggle continues.

...I think I am a fresco painter.