Transfixed to the, by the, on the congruities, who is herself a vanishing point coming to closure—

I was scrolling through many days’ worth of posts in my feed reader for Lost at E Minor—eyes tired, brain a little numb at the end of the day—when these abstract paintings by Chris Trueman stopped me in my tracks, and made me sit up. I think they’re some of the most beautiful abstract paintings I’ve seen in a long while (to be fair, I’m not a huge fan of abstract art, because I don’t know enough about it to understand what’s going on.)

However, an intellectual comprehension of the abstract art movement seems, in this case, unnecessary. I love the lines, the colors, the balance between the amorphous swirls of color with the hard-edged precision of the stripes. It would be so nice to see the actual paintings…love that in reality they are quite large. I crave the see the way light plays over the surface, and I’m dying to know if these are highly textural pieces, with the paint raised here and there in ridges or rills.

Thank you, Chris Trueman, for making paintings that keep me nervously excited, and transfixed, and hungry.

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