The only things you will find in a spring corn field are mud, manure, and dead stalks. They are a common sight around here now. You might see the above as a picture of nothing. To me they are like old battlefields awaiting redemption and new life. Apropos of nothing, here's a quote by Adam Kirsch from a poem by Philip Larkin, words that one wouldn't normally associate with Larkin:
In everyone there sleeps
A sense of life lived according to love.
To some it means the difference they could make
By loving others, but across most it sweeps
As all they might have done had they been loved.
That nothing cures.
The above is a 9x12 pastel. The advantage of a pastel is that one doesn't have to wait for it to dry to take a photograph.
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