Another badly needed revision to a previous image. A lesson in not settling or compromising, I guess, but I was never happy in the execution of the original, and I remember wanting it finished because it was a self portrait for my birthday this year, and I was compelled to call it done for that reason, even though it was not. So, forgive the repeat, but this one is more what I wanted.
Notes from the original:
a final image on the theme of time and aging and mortality, on this, my birthday.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing. - Shakespeare
|Recording media:||JPEG (digital)|