"We’ll forget the sun, in it’s jealous sky…as we lie in fields of gold.”
I grew up going to a little island in Greece every summer. It is called the golden island because the volcanic mountains were covered with golden wheat. My grandfather owned a wheat mill, and as a child, I remember early in the morning, at sunrise, when the sky was golden, walking through the fields. The summer wind blowing as the wheat danced and shimmered. This piece is my tribute to these lovely memories!
Acrylic on birch.