I have a Dorking rooster that crows every morning outside my studio window. He looks like the Corn Flakes box rooster on acid. His tail feathers are iridescent green/blue/black, a Rani’s funeral sari and Derby fascinator rolled into one. His shoulders are draped with a fop’s cloak, and he carries himself knowing he is cock of the dirt patch under the clematis. The other two roosters are Australorps, mere black abbots next to the papal ostentatiousness of the Dorking.
So what does this have to do with Ms.Cermaria’s work? Absolutely nothing. To paraphrase that old quotation, “Talking about art is like dancing about architecture,” I figured that if I had to say anything about this wonderful art, the best thing to do would be to crow like my Dorking, loud, stylish, apropos of nothing. And that is what I’ve done.