after Dressing table self portrait, Margaret Olley, 1982
there are days — when the levity of dogs the fridge motor, the pol air chopper says there’s no quiet to be had but for this moment to which you return again and again, your familiars — blooms, a fan of feathers ovals and angles turned so the light that lines your dressing table leads to the morning over your shoulder then descends into blue, blue shadow — your cardigan, your face is awash you stare at the sun specular in glass and antelopes on a black lacquered box lost to us now, but leaping still
Image: (detail) Dressing table self portrait, Margaret Olley, 1982. A poem after Australian painter Margaret Olley‘s (1923-2011) 1982 painting which is here. Olley painted several versions of this scene over a painting career of nearly sixty years during which she focussed on colour and still life.