Waiting at the Train Station,
Alexandria, VA
Robert Winter, 2004 

Acrylic on Stretched Canvas
18" x 24"

Giclee Print:   $400
On Sheet Canvas, Unframed

Framed Original:   Not currently for sale

Artist's Notes

What struck me initially about this scene was just the abstract composition:  the play of light and dark in strong, simple shapes, with the bench delineating a transition between one plane and the other.

The more I looked at it, though, the more I began to see something allegorical in the figure of the man sitting on the bench.  Maybe he wasn't actually waiting for a ride to arrive.  Maybe he just wasn't ready to leave the station.

The world outside the station is bigger and brighter, but its brilliance is also a bit daunting.  There's something about the cool, dark funkiness of the station's breezeway that's familiar and reassuring.

We've probably all been in this kind of situation in our lives.  Something new can literally shimmer with promise, but if it involves moving on from something we've gotten accustomed to, we can find ourselves not quite ready--and hang suspended between the two.

This can occur anywhere from the smallest transitions to the biggest ones we'll ever face.

I've read that in hospices, people on the verge of departing this life often seem to hang on in a troubled way.   Sometimes this appears to be the result of worrying about unfinished business--how loved ones will be taken care of, and other practical concerns.  But I also wonder how often the person is metaphorically sitting at the end of the bench in the station--just not ready for what's next.

It would give me a great deal of satisfaction if somebody in a hospice could derive comfort from looking at this image.

More Representational/Abstract Hybrids

© COPYRIGHT 2004 ROBERT WINTER.  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.