Gold Clusters Passing

 

On average we live for about 33,000. They're all in a row line train carriages on a track and can't be exchanged or swapped around or circumnavigated. I pan for gold in every one and sometimes experience scintillas of gold dust - sight of starlings sharing a bird bath, a novel being surprisingly good, a rainbow, the cats purring together, dew on a spider's web, a crimson sunset over rolling honey-coloured fields, a deep rejuvenating sleep, a play on the radio that makes me laugh audibly, identifying a piece of music and learning a new word. Every day is a good day even if stuff that happens inside isn't uplifting.

 

I have a recurring dream featuring clusters of gold and I thought I'd paint it. In the farmer's field there were three deep ponds and in this dream I lower myself down into one of them, submerge myself fully. Suddenly I'm in a slowly-revolving vortex of warm pleasing pastel colours of vermillion, ochre, sienna, caramel, ochre and burnt orange. I'm toast-warm, ageless, weightless and can breathe. As I look round I see clusters of gold passing me. I can't touch them even though they're inches away from my face.

 

Here I have obliterated an A4 canvas using a palette knife and an open mind. It's dreamy and abstract and punctuated with passing golden nuggets. I could put this on my bedroom wall but it could be on yours for 42,864.