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“You know that great pause that comes upon things before the dusk, even the breeze stops in the trees. To me there is always an air of expectation about that evening stillness.”
― H.G. Wells , The Time Machine
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The painting shown here, about 15″ x 24″ on paper, is titled Working to Stillness. It is included in my upcoming solo exhibit, From a Distance, that opens next Friday, July 17, at the West End Gallery.
I debated quite a bit over the title. I had read a letter of advice from the poet Rainer Maria Rilke that spoke of the great movements of activity that take place within us when we are still, sometimes resulting in great works at a later time. That made me think of making the title this painting Working From Stillness rather than To.
But I thought of the stillness that comes at the end of those days of great activity, of toil both physical and mental. When the tasks have been completed and set aside for the day, there is a sense of relief and satisfaction that sets upon the body and mind. Stillness arrives.
It’s a good feeling for me and one that I look forward to most days. I often think of my days as working to this stillness.
This piece captures that feeling for me. It has great warmth and an abundance of strength. I think I used the term muscularity when I was talking about it when I delivered the show to the gallery yesterday. It has that kind of physicality to it. I don’t know how to really describe what I mean by that but it sounds right. Maybe it comes from what I see as the strength of the colors and forms in this piece.
Whatever the case, it’s a piece that has great and undeniable presence in its setting. Maybe that’s the part that speaks most to me in these times where we all feel a need to have our voices heard. This one demands that its voice be heard.
Even in its stillness.
Redtree Times 
When I think about that stillness you describe, it always comes with birdsong: robins in childhood, cardinals and doves today. On the other hand, and with tongue in cheek, I might title this one “Sizzle.” It evokes a different kind of summer stillness: the sort that comes when the heat rises and the wind dies, and every living creature is waiting for the relief of the night.
“Sizzle” is very fitting, for sure! I also agree with the idea of birdsong and stillness. There is little more wonderful than the quiet where you can distinctly hear each bird’s call. Here, the song of the thrush from deep in the woods in the evening is always a great pleasure.
Such a beautiful bright solitary tree
Thank you, Ananda.