Oil on canvas
The subject, a four–hundred–year old cotton tree, ensnared its polymorphous trunk randomly with looped, braided, and zigzagged branches. They interlocked and twisted into voluptuous forms that echoed Alouisha’s tactile feelings. She could feel their heat; she could feel her heat, as she imagined they had become petrified during a wild orgiastic encounter. She envisioned the organic parallels between man and nature with every brush stroke–both breathing the same air and engaging in the same earthly mating rituals. She was certain the strong silent trees, rooted in the centuries, spoke tacitly of their wisdom collected over time.