Art is an adventure, on occasion meticulously planned but at other times fantastically ad hoc driven by inspiration and imagination, not necessarily both.

Art may be red or, indeed, it may be a myriad of kaleidoscopic colours. Art has no middle, art has no end and yet, only sometimes, a well-defined beginning.

The excellence of every Art is its intensity, capable of making all disagreeables evaporate.

In the gallery my images can be seen collectively or individually and initially appear without any titles/captions to deceive the eye. These pieces are not defined by their titles for they provide original visual statements – they are not pastiches of a titled work nor are they a recreation of other glories.

The titles are exposed when the work is enlarged and have been carefully extrapolated from a segment of words and then applied to each image – in reality the natural selection of words for the most dramatic vision has negated further reading, such that a title is then applied to the entire series in which it appears.

Re-interpreting and extensive further reading from a large selection of dramatic/illusory/enchanting word pieces steals time that could be used on creating new works.

This is the ongoing conundrum for the artist irrespective of the medium – photo, paint, stone, metal
– to re-evaluate, polish, re-work, steals from an irreplaceable commodity; time. A series title thus defines a particular moment in the imaginative psyche but ultimately it is for the viewer to decide which of the images is so encapsulated by the construct in the first instance.

Currently the photo art images on Art May Be Red But Does It Fly came first and the words and title fell into their respective places afterwards, adding a layer which imbues the viewer with the idea that both words and image are part of the whole.

The ultimate accolade (or conceit) being that neither the words nor the image can function without the other.

This is the photo art exploration of Cliff J Sidnell, a world seen close up