It’s always difficult to say with paintings - in my experience, they tell you what they want before you’ve got any say in the matter. It’s not that you couldn’t do more, add more, paint in a cow or a fence or a road. But all of the sudden the atmosphere seems to sink into place, I can smell the autumn grass, feel the gust of wind. And that’s about it.
Why a landscape? I’m homesick. This work provided me the opportunity to revisit areas I don’t give myself enough time to think about. In spending a few hours each weekend attempting to recall the movements in fields of wheat and the direction of speeding clouds in their atmosphere, I was able to stop and recall my own foundation. The storm is an obvious and recurrent metaphor in my work, a reminder that nothing stands in the way between tumult out of our control and our own resilience. This work is a sort of embodiment of my most honest dreams, which include moving back to a desolate area with the company of sheep and a chorus of cows, awaking to silence every morning, my only obligation a vegetable garden and probably a few stray cats.
Thank you to everyone who’s followed the progress of this painting over the last six months - soon it’ll be shipped across the country to hang in someone else’s house, and I sincerely hope they enjoy what I’ve come up with.