Out of the whirlwind

Ooh! Just stumbled into this:



It's metaphysical poetry in chalk.  I dare you to walk a step further.

I love anamorphosis, viewed edgelong, as in Holbein's death-slashed humanism:



Or gathered in a glass, like a whirlwind in a witch's spell:



That frog is sculpted.

This is how they did it late in the Renaissance:




That's how I'd paint Hopkins, beautifully, minutely dragged and tattered, gathered to a glory in his vision.

Because the Holy Ghost over the bentWorld broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Nine