Alone at last?

Must we be alone to find peace? Must we be in the midst of our cherished desires to be finally at rest? An artist steps amongst the stones of a shallow stream, distant in thought.

Stones become gems, and idle moments are rendered timeless when we are alone; that is, if we find ourselves a likeable companion. If not, being alone is a living hell that we feel obliged to share.

But when we’ve crossed the stream, when we’ve come this far to do what we set out to do, when we have finally arrived at a secret accomplishment, there is the possibility of peace with ourselves. And then, perhaps one can be a friend at last.

painting by Elizabeth Luallen

Original encaustic by Elizabth Luallen

the ferris wheel, by Elizabeth Luallen, 1991

the spinning of uncertainty

the spinning of uncertainty

We have all felt the spin of uncertainty, the turning of the unknown. Everyone stands back fascinated, bewildered at their own curiosity, and above all, worried as to the outcome.
But we all know how it will end: just as it has begun. We have paid admission for the ride, volunteered our lives in the turning pursuit that eventually brings us back down to earth. It’s all been simply an amusement ride. Or has it?

Elizabeth Luallen painted this picture in 1991 shortly before discovering she had terminal cancer. And yet, all along, she had suspected as much.
We go up, we go down, we go all around. And then, the ride is over; the pleasure past. All that awaits, is to find out whether we have one more ticket.

A Gentleman Comes to Call

Endless Summer 1979

A Gentleman Comes to Call.

Afternoon on the veranda and visiting hours are open. The gentleman leans down into the personal space of the young woman. This is his only hope for a prospect of intimacy; meanwhile a seemingly obsequious mother occupies herself with her handwork. A conversation is in play with eyes and words which we can only imagine.

The gentleman holds firmly to the rail, taking care not to lose his footing, which is none too secure. The young woman holds something: is it a muff, handwork, a gift, or some type of defensive instrument? Friendship carries its risks and its joys. Fenced in, and at a disadvantage in her chair, she has no where to maneuver. The beau and the mother bar her retreat. Only toward us can there be any hope of escape. Her innocence and youth; could that be the white gift she still grasps?

This is an encaustic work on paper by artist Elizabeth Luallen from her Endless Summer Collection. This piece was created in the early 1980s. Elizabeth Luallen lived from 1932-1995.