Life comes into the picture at a trot, and steals the show. But the undulant clouds and sere purity of snow fields retain their value long after the trot of life is spent. With the trick of art, we can piece them together into a lie of frozen time. Somewhere far from you, the clouds have moved, the horse has slept, the snow has sighed and turned over in its bed.
copyright@2006 Jeff Beddow