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  • the hunter in the snow

    Ekphrasis/


    Below knife-edged peaks smothered in snow
    A quaint town
    Marked with tavern and steeple intersects
    An ice-covered lake in the shallow river valley
    dotted with villagers and children who skate and play beyond
    A frozen mill.

    The stage of the foreground,
    A hill 
    overlooking the village with no conceivable path downwards.
    On the left, atop the hill, 
    strong-statured hunters
    Furnished with spears 
    trudge through thick white snow. Among the hunters 
    Their dogs
    Tails and heads pointed down toward the slushy footprints that mark their path
    Through tall and leafless trees where five ravens sit.

    To the left of the hunters upon the same hill,
    Sits an inn with a broken sign above its entrance.
    Three women tend to a blazing and overgrown 
    Bonfire treacherously close to the door of the inn

    At the rightmost edge of the hill
    A thin and wispy bush
    Perseveres through a barely thawed patch of muddy snow
    Capsules of enclosed spring seeds and thorns mark its scrawny stems

    Translucent layers of smoke rise from the chimneys of the idyllic village.
    A magpie glides between the layers of haze
    Center-frame
    Overlooking the totality of this wintery landscape.

    Postscript/

    The terrors of war had a marked impact on Andriy. In his own words, pieces of his soul were lost overtime. What was not lost was his dignity and posture as provider and as servant.
    When I look at this painting I see Andriy in the hunters and I see the life he hoped to live in the idyllic village. Furthermore, I see the place Andriy no longer felt a part of. In our last conversation together, Andriy told me he didn’t really like his short visits back to Rivne. He felt out of place, burdened, and detached. The war created two realities for Andriy, one where he provides within the village as a fellow, and another where he is a shadow. A silhouette.
    The women beside the inn throw tied bails of wheat onto a rabid fire–a picture of absolute chaos. This, to me, represents the world Andriyy saw through the war: people suffering and adding to their own suffering.
    I also see the longing to belong in the village in the hunters still trudging toward the village which reminds me of Andriy’s decision to continue to serve despite his desire to work as a doctor in the States. This is what grieves me most in this painting, the disappearing horizon of the cliff side that separates the hunters from the village. Andriy deserved this life in the village, one of peace and tranquility fulfilling his purpose as a protector for a long life. He studied countless hours and worked harder in more difficult conditions than anyone; yet, his dreams have been cut short at the cliff side. The hunters walk to the cliff side knowing there is no path into the village. Andriy, in his final act on this earth, knowingly walked toward death in an effort to save the lives of others.
    The valley in this painting sits in the shadow of an impregnable mountain range, hazardously sharp, warning others not to dare leave. This, to me, is a reality the villagers can see but do not confront.
    I see God in the magpie, hovering over all, cutting through thinly veiled smoke. There is an absent look in its eyes, one of an observer, incapable of or unwilling to make an impact. 

    Yet, in this winter landscape, I am reminded that grief is a season and the realities and feelings of this season should not be ignored.