The Only Child
By Andrew Gault
Original oil and acrylic on canvas
I am intrigued how often people refer to home as the place they lived as a child, it’s as if the soil, water and air of that place formed them. Years later they still think of that landscape as home.
The place I think of as my home I will never live in again.
All families slowly split and scatter with time and the landscape shows this, place becomes space once again, that is nature and though we think we command and we control it, ultimately it is greater than us.