San Giacomo dell'Orio I, Venice, May 2012

From Childe Harold's Pilgimage (Byron):

In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear; Those days are gone, but beauty is still here; States fall, arts fade, but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.

Reading these verses last evening I wondered about the composition above and others like it.  When I began this series I called it the Stones of Venice, after Ruskin, and did not try to hide the actual object of my art. 

But then I found many of my works could be mistaken (at least when viewed online) not as the work-itself-complete, but as thumbnails for much larger works, along the lines of Rothko or Motherwell or Kline.  I was tempted by the ambiguity.  In more recent weeks I have preferred pictures that can be imagined as wall covering, rather than abstract miniatures (or miniature abstractions).

Originally, I was aiming to evoke the feeling of a particular place.  Now I am increasingly trying to capture a sense of mystery.  I'm not sure yet which predilection - or another - might be more meaningful.