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T S Ellot Sixty odd years ago while living in Titirangi’s French Bay, Colin Mc Cahon briefly adopted the habit of rising early at dawn, and as Gordon Brown relates, ‘he would then contemplate the bush with all the intensity he could muster so that the forms of the trees would dematerialize while his sense of spatial depth diminished.’ At its most intense, Mc Cahon likened this illusionary effect to that of the blind man mentioned in Mark’s Gospel who on first receiving his sight, saw “men as trees, walking.”With Reynolds blurs the kaleidoscopic rhapsodies of Mc Cahon’s mid-century French Bay nightscapes with an imagined darker vision from those lost hours when he traversed the street and landscapes of Woolloomooloo nearly thirty years later.