Woman Sewing c. 1934

Mark Rothko made this painting called 'Woman Sewing' with oil on canvas. I love how Rothko approaches a traditional subject—a woman sewing—in such a raw, almost clumsy way. It’s like he's wrestling with the paint, trying to find the essence of the scene. The colors are muted, earthy, and the brushstrokes are so visible. You can almost feel the texture of the paint, thick in some places, thin in others. I imagine Rothko standing before the canvas, stepping back, squinting, and then charging forward to make another mark. The act of sewing, of mending, becomes a metaphor for the act of painting itself. It's all about building something, stitch by stitch, color by color, until a new reality emerges. It reminds me of Guston, actually, how he embraced the so-called 'ugliness' to reveal something profound. Rothko shows how even the most mundane activities can hold a certain weight and presence if you look at them in the right way.