*The Mythologies of Andrew Wyeth

Fine Art, thoughts

I am now permitting the inherent nostalgia that seems to accompany this season to afford me the pleasure of indulging into the pictures of Andrew Wyeth.
For me these images harken the stark landscapes of rural prairie winters and the mysteries that a child conjures when feeling as though ones own little house is the last monument standing isolated amidst a sea of snow.
These, and many other scenes that one cannot help but romanticize when recalling the earliest memories of the first places they explored and keenly observed as the autumn became winter and the winter had its way with the land.
Behold, the irresistible quietness of Wyeth’s paintings.






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