Maybe it's all the sleepless nights I have had in my life so far but I feel an affection for the moon. It bears witness to our silent nights of solitary insomnia, when doubts or illness keep us up and all we have for company if the skies are clear are the moving stars and the moon. I wonder how many women have sat or stood before her, silently speaking their plight while she listened and tried to comfort us with her luminescent soft rays. If she could speak, the stories would fill tomes I am sure. So this little ACEO original oil painting is my homage to la lune.
When's the last time you spoke to the moon?