Jamie Zubairi Visual Art

A slow wash.
Controlled, taking its time like a tide.
Almost unseen but not unnoticed.
The burgundy cloud creeps down the paper silently until dry ridges gather pools
Swirling in witch’s brews.
What spell cast made this painting?
What line, what ridge of paper made that curve?
Step away from up closeness
And see the whole.
Picture it, see it in miniature.
What will it look like on an iPhone?
What does it say to me?
Does it make your heart soar?
Do the clouds open to reveal your spirit?
That is for you. That is for you.