He Take The Thunder From The Mountain - Oils

"He Take The Thunder From The Mountain" Winsor and Newton Griffin Alkyd Oils on canvas 600x405mm
600x405mm
AU$
1200
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This piece comes framed in a natural Australian Oak floating frame for your viewing pleasure. The battle. When the hunted becomes the hunter. The victim the victor. When you become the monarch.Some small voices in small rooms may squeak small murmurings or facial expressions against you in your absence, in your presence, in their small world. Oh to believe that you do not contain within you happiness, within your relationship joy, within your work success. That is their chosen calling. Their new-found acquired taste. To be right in their efforts to convince others that there's something a little twisted about you, that you are faking it all, that they are the expert and you the mock-up. The bitter poison of their weak sap, leaking out in their limp embrace as they attempt to show you how they struggle to bear the weight of your presence, leaking out in the creases of their face while in their attempt to feign a public smile in your direction they instead grimace as if catching a whiff of a bad smell. The smell of your strength. The smell of His thunder clearing the path before you.

This piece comes framed in a natural Australian Oak floating frame for your viewing pleasure.
The battle. When the hunted becomes the hunter. The victim the victor. When you become the monarch.
Some small voices in small rooms may squeak small murmurings or facial expressions against you in your absence, in your presence, in their small world. Oh to believe that you do not contain within you happiness, within your relationship joy, within your work success. That is their chosen calling. Their new-found acquired taste. To be right in their efforts to convince others that there's something a little twisted about you, that you are faking it all, that they are the expert and you the mock-up. The bitter poison of their weak sap, leaking out in their limp embrace as they attempt to show you how they struggle to bear the weight of your presence, leaking out in the creases of their face while in their attempt to feign a public smile in your direction they instead grimace as if catching a whiff of a bad smell. The smell of your strength. The smell of His thunder clearing the path before you.
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