Robin's Tree

Acrylic painting 30" x 22" on board Many years ago when I was a young man, I was driving to my grandmother's house with my sister, Robin. We passed this farm that had a wide open field. In the middle of the field was a single tree, standing alone, big, and beautiful. Robin exclaimed, "That's my tree! I love that tree." Years later after I had tragically lost Robin, I would drive pass that tree with a saddened heart. The last time I returned to North Carolina, I dove to the farm to see Robin's tree, but it had been removed, leaving the empty field behind. Its beauty is gone forever. Now, I paint a memory, just like my sister, the tree is gone, its beauty, its grace, its wonder will be no more. Only emptiness remains.

Fine Arts, Painting

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Many years ago when I was a young man, I was driving to my grandmother's house with my sister, Robin. We passed this farm that had a wide open field. In the middle of the field was a single tree, standing alone, big, and beautiful. Robin exclaimed, "That's my tree! I love that tree." Years later after I had tragically lost Robin, I would drive pass that tree with a saddened heart. The last time I returned to North Carolina, I dove to the farm to see Robin's tree, but it had been removed, leaving the empty field behind. Its beauty is gone forever. Now, I paint a memory, just like my sister, the tree is gone, its beauty, its grace, its wonder will be no more. Only emptiness remains.

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