The Letter by pauldrobertson

Framed Prints

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Sizing Information

Small 8.0" x 10.9"
Medium 12.0" x 16.3"
Large 16.0" x 21.7"
Note: Image size. Matboard and frame increase size of final product


  • Custom-made box or flat frame styles
  • High-quality timber frame finishes to suit your decor
  • Premium Perspex - clearer and lighter than glass
  • Exhibition quality box or flat frame styles

Pastels on disintegrating art spectrum paper.
120 × 90 cms

pastels… not sold the original as of april 2007. not SHOWN IT either. 120 × 90cms

I have chronic bipolar disorder… it sucks, mostly.

I don’t seem to be able to stop being too hot or too cold. I should probably get a house with air conditioning (I will just spray the conditioner I have in my bathroom up n down and all around and see if that helps.) I USED to have air conditioning at my house – I wrote on the controls in purple felt tip pen “for permed or colour treated air.”
I love the names of paints. Not the ones that they come up with for you to paint your house with. I have always thought I would be good at that though –
For your lounge “autumnal beef jerky” and for your kitchen, “happy exploding sunflower” and in your dining room, “fragrant maroon mice” with a split level in “hungry hungry hippo.”
Or not.
Real paints have names like crimson alizarin, burnt umber, spectrum yellow, French ultramarine, titanium white and cobalt blue. Somehow more real they elicit possibility like a blank white canvas or a snow-white untouched high cotton yield watercolour sheet. Like a beach without footprints or a wide green field of soft grass. At the same time they threaten to overwhelm me with their original unsullied beauty.
So, anyhoo, I sit here, naked in the cold because I choose to be, because I don’t care. I do believe, I do, that we are brilliant and unique, random, an act of somewhere silent, sliding through the world on the diamond flaws that everyone tries so hard to believe. Arbitrary, indiscriminately created, hacked open and carved from the world.

The distress abates by degrees, and by degree it returns and haunts and hurts. This is how it has always been.
I have even been a shred manic of late. Can feel my fingers and toes tingle all day for no reason in slow waves of pleasure, hold them before my face, bend at the hip to pick lavender and put it in my pocket. Stretch strong and beautiful in the morning sun.
Just the tantalizing threads of it in my blood making me bite my cheeks and begin, once more, to push the worlds of my mind onto paper, to hold their drifting and stinging forms.
And it surges and falls like the sea, beats like wind against glass in my head. It has been a few days since I felt the irrational pleasure throb through my limbs. But ah, yes ah YES I know it will be back and soon and I will whisper to it and brush its feathers and ask it to stay stay stay.

Before the storm. I have rational rationale that I must follow before I get all carried away and covered in paint inside and out.
I don’t know if this is happiness or not. I am lonely and dissatisfaction nests in my mind. Of course, of course. But limbo is better than purgatory and purgatory is better than hell.

While I have this stillness, this ineptitude for subsistence there is always the star monster, world eater, inside me. It is inside us all, somewhere, elsewhere, else-when, telling us, calling to us in the night…
Don’t ever stop asking don’t ever ever stop reaching the answer to the question what is the meaning of life is the question what is the meaning of life.

Breathe the sweet breath of madness tie your mind to itself in switches and arcs of pleasure and lights and pain, in stutters and twitches and flights and bursts of colour in your vision.
We are all so bound to lucidity. To rationalism.

Ah hell. And to it we eventually return.
I wish I was my cat (the cat is dead, long live the cat!)

“I am a brother to dragons
I am a companion to owls.
My skin is black upon me.
And my bones are burned with heat.”

Ah my friends, my loving mad friends. I do so hope we all survive.
Spin through the random sky… faithless, of course. Faith in what?


I have been writing my novel, which is so exciting i made my cat throw up last chapter I finished. Um… I spun her around saying “YAY!” too much. so i haven’t been painting anywhere near as much as i like to. (I’ve also been realllllllly sick. oh well.) Apart from painting I have a side-line in cat straightening – an uncommon skill that i learned in a dzong in Bhutan.

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  • Joe Mortelliti
    Joe Mortellitialmost 8 years ago

    This is very attractive Paul

  • Daleigh
    Daleighalmost 8 years ago

    Truly beautiful.
    And your writing, very compelling & lyrical. Do you write often?

  • eon .
    eon .almost 8 years ago

    When the student is ready the teacher appears.
    Whatever your state js your ability to bring visual form to reality is a gift. Cheers Steve H

  • Melody
    Melodyalmost 8 years ago

    “…………………………………………………………………..” <——Im speechless.

  • Mel Brackstone
    Mel Brackstonealmost 8 years ago

    Compellingly beautiful work and words

    RIVIERAVISUALalmost 8 years ago

    Elegant and magically beautiful,Paul

  • Wendi Seymour
    Wendi Seymouralmost 8 years ago

    Love it Paul. Love the light coming in on her dress . Hope youre in a good place today !! Shine on.

  • Vonnie Murfin
    Vonnie Murfinalmost 8 years ago

    Wow! what an amazing writing! Are you a writer? I also like your picture.

  • pauldrobertson
    pauldrobertsonalmost 8 years ago

    thank you all intensely and deeply. and yeh… the writing… i guess i want to be both… well all three actually.. artist, writer, and composer. the music is as much part of it as the other two. my webpage has songs on it though i don’t think i can put em on here. thank you thank you thank you…

  • brummieboy
    brummieboyover 7 years ago

    Superb .. the look on the girl’s face kneeling is wonderful ….

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