Late Spring places two lovers at the edge of the frame, small against trees and hills, as if the season itself is giving them cover. The composition is tall and airy: tree trunks rise like pillars, foliage shimmers in greens and yellows, and the hillside rolls back into cool blues and soft light. A patch of yellow flowers flares near the bottom left, bright enough to feel sunlit.
The figures are close—faces touching, bodies overlapping—but the drawing doesn’t overstate it. The intimacy is clear and quiet. Oil pastel on black paper makes that possible: color glows against darkness, so the landscape feels alive while the figures remain partly hidden, private without being erased.
This work changes subtly with viewing distance. From across the room you see structure and light: trees, meadow, horizon. Up close you see the hand: scratched highlights, layered blues, warm reds at the edges of skin, and the soft blur where forms meet.
Late Spring holds tenderness inside a larger landscape. It’s quiet, bright, and real: a season, a place, and two bodies choosing closeness.
The black paper is not just background; it acts like evening shade even in daylight. It deepens the blues, intensifies the greens, and lets bright marks glow. That glow gives the scene its season: late spring light, still cool in places, already thick with color elsewhere.
