No more depth, no deep layering
of perception's convoluted channels.
With Alzheimer's coming on,
struggle to do what you cannot do.
No more personal conflicts of representation
as in the sensual, distorted Woman series,
where tangled texture spoke love's anguish,
darkling impulses of fleshly desire.
Now paint the simple surface, gliding color,
design lovely curves, no longer explorer.
Act out, renew an elemental state of being.
Prepare huge canvases, I can still paint,
I am desperate for simplicity, I will find
bright primary colors like Matisse's finishing.
Simplicity picks out neighbors one by one,
spurring loss into a defiant, blazing web.
See, I am trying to paint a radiance
beyond painting, design against death!
If depth of art is a lost beacon, look!
Radiant end-lines appear, dark end's eclipse!