Transparent, flickering, then wavering, with creeping feet, dry and hot, sucking itself along, an inevitable feast. The core ascends, upward, always upward, a hot air balloon, a warm light comes off, inviting but you daren’t get close.  No one wants to get burned.  The shadows run; when outside, trees bent toward its light. Not unlike the snake that eats its tail, it appears to digest itself from the inside out, turning like flour mixing into batter.

Printed at the Highland Studio on archival William Turner Watercolor paper with a 1/2" border for easy framing, this print is virtually indistinguishable from the original painting.