It was time to go;
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered . . . "Snow".
Leaves were green and stirring,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned . . . "frost"
All the sagging orchard steamed with amber spice
But each wild breast stiffened and remembered . . . "ice".
Something told the wild geese it was time to fly.
Summer sun was on their wings
Winter in their cry!
- Rachel Field
|Oil on cardboard|
This is a painting I've done a while ago but I completed it by adding the words and silhouettes of the geese yesterday. It's my first piece with oil colors and it was a big fight. Well, creating always is a bit like war for me, but this was even harder.
I'm not sure if it is really visible, but the colorful stuff that forms the Lady's shoulder are actually autumn-colored trees and there's a river springing from her neck. I wanted her face and hair to be the cold faces of the rocks that are towering above the valley and the loose part of her hair is the icy wind.
I really like how it turned out, but I don't think I'll get out the oil colors soon again. What mediums are you at war with?