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Half-Finished Hell, 2017, oil on canvas, 30 x 40 inches

A friend sent me a poem, "The Half-Finished Heaven" by Tomas Tranströmer. As I read the last two lines this image came into my head.

The Half-Finished Heaven

Despondency breaks off its course. Anguish breaks off its course. The vulture breaks off its flight. The eager light streams out, even the ghosts take a draught. And our paintings see daylight, our red beasts of the ice-age studios. Everything begins to look around. We walk in the sun in hundreds. Each man is a half-open door leading to a room for everyone. The endless ground under us. The water is shining among the trees. The lake is a window into the earth. From Tomas Tranströmer, New Collected Poems, translated by Robin Fulton (Bloodaxe Books, 1997/2011)

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