In this painting, the world is washed in the fire of dusk — a land suspended in crimson breath. The wildebeest move slowly across the glowing plain, their dark forms steady against the vast, burning sky. They seem both eternal and fleeting, part of the earth’s endless rhythm, their silhouettes absorbed into the great red silence of evening.
In this painting, the world is washed in the fire of dusk — a land suspended in crimson breath. The wildebeest move slowly across the glowing plain, their dark forms steady against the vast, burning sky. They seem both eternal and fleeting, part of the earth’s endless rhythm, their silhouettes absorbed into the great red silence of evening.
