Morning Fields 

Editor: We’re looking at “Morning Fields,” an acrylic on canvas painting by Eyvind Earle. It's, like, intensely geometric. The hills are so stylized, they almost feel like ocean waves made of gold. I’m curious – what do you make of this dreamscape? Curator: Oh, I’m instantly transported! There's a fairytale quality isn't there? Earle invites us into a world meticulously crafted, but also slightly off-kilter, wouldn’t you say? It feels like a memory half-remembered, bathed in a very specific, almost theatrical light. Tell me, does it spark a longing in you for a place you’ve never actually been? Editor: Totally! It’s both familiar and strange at the same time. I see the landscapes of childhood stories...but filtered through some kind of modern, design-y lens. Why do you think he chose this style to represent nature? Curator: Ah, but is he truly representing *nature*, or perhaps an ideal *of* nature? He simplifies it, distills it to these essential, almost architectural forms. What feelings arise when looking at this – awe? Mystery? Calmness? And do these feelings reflect those we find ourselves experiencing when within the ‘true’ landscape? Editor: I feel… stillness, almost. A kind of peaceful, otherworldly silence. Curator: Precisely! And isn't it fascinating how Earle achieves that stillness through such dynamic geometry? The contrast is delicious! Like a visual poem... Editor: So true! I initially thought "geometric abstraction," but I see it's not abstract at all. It evokes such specific emotion! I'll never look at a landscape painting quite the same way. Curator: Agreed, it’s transformative. It certainly gives you something to ponder… perhaps about the way light plays across real hillscapes at daybreak... how close is that moment, in fact, to Earle's vision! And what, perhaps, is truth in that vision? A rather gorgeous set of questions, don't you think?