IF THIS IS NOT THE END, then is it a beginning? Or a continuation even, but of what? The other budgie in the show is sadly legless; and the bungalow about to take-off! And the landscapes, their thin skeins of oil paint flattened, yellowed and pulled further back from us by a coat of waxy polyeurethane, read like second hand revelations. The archangel Gabriel must be about to pounce from behind a cloud or out of the shimmering incandescence of sun over sea. Naïve I hear you say - well, maybe. But rendered very cute, and in a palette surprisingly high key.
One last thought: is it hard I wonder, for an amibitious painterly presence to confine itself to such small boards, such small images? Or, as one similarly ambitious, though indeterminate presence in Saskia's painting so succinctly puts it: "SOMETIME I'LL MAKE THE WHOLE WORLD LAUGH". This is certainly not the end.