Where text meets image. Where the visual intersects the literary.

Category: painting

We also the same

Contemplating the Fate of the Druids While Thinking of Something Else

When the Abstract Expressionists

When the Abstract Expressionists

went to the moon

and discovered

the Expressionists

had left an egg

rolling to a standstill

for them to discover.




The egg comes from a painting of mine.

The bird imagery comes from digital experimentation.

The idea about the Abstract Expressionists

and Expressionists

and moon travel (involving an egg)

came in a humorous flash.

Nine Whales (or three)

9″ X 12″ works on watercolour paper from 2021. I’m not sure why the whales (in groupings of three) are looking at the iconographic images (on a shroud?) within eggs or stones. I discovered about thirty blueish smaller paintings on paper I did during the second lockdown.

A New Painting

I was tempted to leave this as a rougher, more expressive work.

Started this painting in 2020. It stayed on the easel while I worked my big roll of paper.

I saw it every day. Finished it a few days after completing Druidica.

Size: 40″ X 40.” Acrylic on canvas. Title: Annunciation.

After working in mostly blues for three or four years it feels good to

work with colour again.

Annunciation by Steven McCabe, 2022, H:40″ X W:40″ – Acrylic on canvas
Annunciation by Steven McCabe – Stage 1, 2020 H:40″ X W:40″ – Acrylic on canvas

Elsewhere, the Poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva

In corridors


a shadow-mansion,

once well-known,


summon an alchemical star.

Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva

chanting subterranean architecture of poetry.

The haystack-man

within my obsidian-heart

longs for the once well-known

song of the silver bird.

Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva

chanting original colour wheel of poetry.

Oceanic echoes

vibrate between stalactites.

The silver bird chants subterranean poetry


upon an enormous iron wheel.

Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva

chanting physiology of poetry.

Nimble obsidian-animals climb

a half-visible clock-tower

buried in night-coloured shadow.

Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva

chanting geological formations of poetry.


pulsing hearts moist as roots,

prowl the corridors.

A vase tips

dried flowers scatter across a night-coloured carpet.

The seahorse-ghost of my cubistic, star-like obsidian heart

envelops the buried clock-tower.

Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva

chanting vast agriculture of poetry.

Haystack-man nimble as a shadow-animal

swims within buoyant

star-like dimensions,

climbs an enormous staircase

enters an unlocked door.

His feet rise above tar-night shadow

skipping iike a child.

Elsewhere, the poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva

chanting the infinite mansions of poetry.

I wrote a short poem this morning in homage to Marina Tsvetaeva. The poem was spontaneous. A lifetime entered that quicksilver moment. I have revisited the poem and edited.

Wherever you are Marina, I accept your verdict.

Last night I read selections from Marina Tsvetaeva’s Art in the Light of Conscience: Eight Essays on Poetry (translated by Angela Livingstone).

‘Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941) was one of the four great Russian poets of the 20th century, along with Akhmatova, Mandelstam and Pasternak.’ 

‘For me, there are no essays on poetry as unique, as profound, as passionate, as inspiring as these. “Art, a series of answers for which there are no questions,” Tsvetaeva brilliantly asserts, and then goes on to ask questions we didn’t know existed until she offered them to us, and answers to some of poetry’s most enduring mysteries.’

– C.K. Williams 

Mother in Her Rare Blue Shroud

Mother envelops children  

Sideways roll, forward roll, tilt back

Father leading golden animal 

Beneath the obsidian ceremonial archway

Gift of bread

Gift of water

Caravan single file behind golden animal

Golden animal envelops dream

Dream envelops form

Mother in her rare blue shroud

One star rolling above

the obsidian ceremonial archway.

Painting: Mother, 2020, acrylic on canvas, 9″ X 12″

Slowly but surely…like a turtle


Couple of days ago:



Couple of days ago:


Posted by u/4K_Jay
2 years ago


A bit more, a bit more, soon finished.

A 33′ X 5′ painting on Fabriano mixed-media paper, a soft yet substantial texture.

Inks, water-soluble graphite, gouache, watercolour, watercolour pencil.

Mostly materials used for smaller works and yet here we are.

Blues. Druidic blue. Pictish Blue.

It came to me – how to complete this work. Soon the final section.

In progress:

A medieval hedgehog decides my painting shall become an illuminated manuscript
The original plan was to use hundreds of sketches (such as the ink drawings above) but it didn’t work out that way.
Soon I will deal with the final 36.”
How quickly everything looks like the scene of an earthquake!
Many hours crawling on the floor since April, 2021.

Heavy Paper, Deep Blacks, White Whites

Recent work I’d forgotten.

Heavy paper, deep blacks, white whites.

Came out more sepia-cream in the photographs.

Heavy watercolour paper.

India ink, white ink,

white gouache, black gouache.

Full-size works I folded then tore by hand.

Smaller now than a single newspaper page.

I don’t remember why.

Older phone camera can’t capture the

texture, depth & edge.

I like the mistaken sepia-cream.

Deep-sea psyche-diving during first lockdown.

Abstractions, realism, touch of symbolism,

the tactile.

Via disorientation:

Seeing as fins

fins as perception

perception as touch

touch as seeing.

Some daylight photos showing more detail: