Two figures against muted gray green--a field, in the atmospheric sense--reaching in, perhaps. Personalities distinct, even in silhouette--one more upright, the other dark and tentative. Parallels or contradictions...even at this tiny scale--their lives played out before us in touches of wash...
An opening, too--one that occured in the painting itself. Brush moves around, creates a home--more shelter than limitation. Clouds, cold breeze--late in the fall...
Last night, with Ahron--sound of the violin and guitar. His confidence, launching in to each new melody. The ones I've taught him as well-- Wildwoodflower, Wind and the Rain--along with Vivaldi, Rossini, Suzuki...
Two friends...
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