Witness in the Dark
The title belies the buttered corn yellow ironed onto the canvas in cob clouds. Cottony blaze blue hills that you can pillow push with fingers are foregrounded by a caramel chocolate solid strip of terrain with dead tree-lined skeletons with feelers. The goldenrod, gold, djon, ochre sky– that has no honey–is starker than dark made more stark by the illusion of softness in blue. And you— witness –stand on the charcoaled left lower edge ——–unnoticed.
The sky is yellow but the scene below makes it seem dark. On the left an aged horse lies dead in the road. He was simply too old to bear the weight of the world another day. An Indian (top left) sits and beats a drum of farewell for his old friend. A young colt stands nearby, waiting for any movement from his father. On the bottom right, cats run from the scene. On the top right, a man and woman glance over but with no response. In the bottom center, a mourner stands in the dark, sad earth and becomes a witness in the “dark” of the day.
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