The Seven Singers
Words are meaningless if everyone sings the same tune
Rosie Jackson 2004
Acrylics on canvas, 100 x 80 cm
Four of the seven singers are still standing motionless in a row. They are blissfully unaware that they are conveniently controllable, with golden salvationchains around their throats, crushing self-expression.
But perhaps they will soon stretch their folded horizonhands and utter words of authenticity.
Then they will be free to fly heavenwards like the first singer. White surpassingseeds are born of orange plants. The goldenglobes in their mouths grow as they learn to communicate on a more genuine level.