Pastel on Paper. 8x10. 1987. I sensed there was a change in the weather. The light was different and the wind had changed directions. The few birds that remained had quit singing. For the last few years we have had a reprieve, but so much has been lost already that I fear that nothing can stop the march down.
8x10. Pastel on Paper. 1987. There is great beauty in a partially harvested cornfield, especially during the twilight hours. The oppressive heat of the summer is over and the nights bring cool relief. After the frost most of the bothersome insects are gone. I drove my pickup out into the field to take it all in.
Pastel on Paper. 8x10. 1987. The corn is packed so close together, and it seems like it gets closer every year. It does not naturally grow that way and only does so as biologists meddle. I have never liked the city or the attitudes and politics it breeds. I want to make it clear that this painting is not about human population growth.
