No.18. in my series of short stories. . SOLD No.1710
This large works in mixed media was a process of my imagination after visiting Lake Barrington in the North West of Tasmania, this beautiful lake is not far from where I now reside.
The last bastion is breached.
The casual observer would have noticed all seemed idyllic a lazy afternoon beckoning a rest, to lay on the soft rye grass gazing out across a rolling landscape towards the lake and smoke blue haze of distant mountains, evoking daydreams to inspire the soul and revive the heart.
Yet, the landscape was silent that afternoon, to a point of nothing to be heard for miles around, eerily the sky had turned an unnatural hue of cobalt and magenta, a sense of foreboding was settling as a leaden cloud stifling the serenity. There was no casual observer today to notice this change, only this menacing disturbance rippling in waves across the land.
The disturbance was moving deliberately, yet at random, seeking, finding its way, thriving on its claimed land, since first arriving it seemed extraordinary that we, the casual observers were unprepared, now it was here, multiplying, all-encompassing, rarely discriminating.
Our island was the last bastion of a familiar life, resisting no longer, the struggle almost over, the last of us were standing, waiting and resigned, but to what?
I have conveyed the fear of the unknown breaching our normality, that nothing can be taken for granted.
CAN YOU GUESS WHAT THIS IS ABOUT? It's COVID coming to Tasmania