Was absolutely awestruck by this painting when I saw it on the lovely Imp’s blog.
The contrast of the orange blanket and the black of the angel of death was the first thing to strike me. There is a sadness that I can’t quite explain. I find it a bit disturbing although it’s not meant to be, as the angel holds a guiding light and she holds the young girl with her wing. It’s a comforting gesture. But I guess it just reveals my own fears of death and mostly loss. I am not afraid of dying myself, but I am petrified of loss.
Sorry for the many obsessive shots. I feel I could sit and gaze at this over and over again and never tire of it. Ironically, it feels so alive.
The petals fall on the floor. Every little detail seems significant.
The young girl and death.
Yes, I felt stunned in the presence of this painting. Some of the paintings were disturbing to me on some level like this one.