“A Wheat
Field, with Cypresses”
The
sky begins and ends in the same
place
but you don’t know where that might be.
The
blues fade to white and the white to blue.
The
brushstrokes embody the clouds.
The
swirls resemble their freedom.
From
left to right they start then up
the
canvas they move. Bits of gold thrown in
the
mixture of the skies royal blue.
I
would say I see green in the air
but
you’d call me color blind, I swear
I
am not but people beg to differ
whether
the trees are moving or not.
I
feel like the whole painting is twirling
with
a constant lean to the left and
opposing
strokes on the right of it.
The
mountains resemble waves and boulders
all
one color though. But definitely
a
sight to behold. They live among each
other,
rounding themselves among the wheat.
The
vibrant, yellow acrylic lowly
glows
in comparison to the green.
The
green is spirited screaming life.
Not
even the purest of whites are
able
to outshine the green or even
be
found in the painting. It’s a medley
of
colors and all their various
shades
that add depth to flat piece of art.
I
saw this scenery when I went spelunking
and
it inspired me to paint this.
What’s
simple and everywhere
cannot
be replicated with such
finesse
that even the bushes spoke.
I
see wheat last and their neighbors first.
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