Held by the Light settles at the edge of still water, where a fallen tree lies low across the shallows, its bare grey branches reaching out over a surface that has gone entirely quiet. It is held by what surrounds it — reeds, young shoots, the standing spruce, and a pink sky that comes down over all of it alike.
Colour does the work here. That pink brims over the treetops and comes down into the water as a second sky, softened until the two are nearly indistinguishable, while the shore is built thickly in green and ochre, stroke crowding stroke against the old wood and leaning in wherever the young growth can reach. New growth does not replace what has fallen; it presses close and hugs it. NeuroArts takes an interest in work that metabolizes loss rather than depicts it — growth arriving through difficulty rather than after it — and the case is made in colour and proximity rather than in argument.
Nothing here stands alone. The light comes evenly over the spruce, the new leaves, the still water and the branches that will not leaf again; what has fallen is kept within the circle rather than cleared from it, honoured by the ones that remain, and what endures in this place endures in company.
Details
Oil painting on canvas
Unframed
Ready to hang
Dimensions in inches: 40 wide x 30 high
Ships with tracking number via courier.
Held by the Light settles at the edge of still water, where a fallen tree lies low across the shallows, its bare grey branches reaching out over a surface that has gone entirely quiet. It is held by what surrounds it — reeds, young shoots, the standing spruce, and a pink sky that comes down over all of it alike.
Colour does the work here. That pink brims over the treetops and comes down into the water as a second sky, softened until the two are nearly indistinguishable, while the shore is built thickly in green and ochre, stroke crowding stroke against the old wood and leaning in wherever the young growth can reach. New growth does not replace what has fallen; it presses close and hugs it. NeuroArts takes an interest in work that metabolizes loss rather than depicts it — growth arriving through difficulty rather than after it — and the case is made in colour and proximity rather than in argument.
Nothing here stands alone. The light comes evenly over the spruce, the new leaves, the still water and the branches that will not leaf again; what has fallen is kept within the circle rather than cleared from it, honoured by the ones that remain, and what endures in this place endures in company.
Details
Oil painting on canvas
Unframed
Ready to hang
Dimensions in inches: 40 wide x 30 high
Ships with tracking number via courier.