The Valley's Wild 1993

Eyvind Earle painted ‘The Valley’s Wild’ at some point in his career, and it feels like stepping into a dream doesn't it? I can imagine Earle, brush in hand, lost in the sheer act of bringing this place into being. See how the hills fade into a hazy, almost golden sky, and the way the light kisses the tops of the trees? It's like he's built the entire world out of these little marks. There’s something about the repetition of form, the circular shapes of the trees that feels comforting, but also slightly unsettling. Maybe Earle was thinking about how nature repeats itself, or how patterns exist within the chaos. Each stroke feels deliberate, a way to make sense of something vast and wild. I think of other painters like Milton Avery, who capture something essential with minimal means, boiling down a landscape to just its barest bones. Artists are in constant conversation, riffing off one another’s ideas through time. Painting’s not about answers, but an ongoing process of discovery.