this piece of art is nailed to a cabinet outside a very, very small bookstore along the animas river. the picture is about 24″ x 16″ for reference. and the bottom is roughly 24″ from the ground. the cabinet contains free books and magazines. the artwork appeared about a month or so ago. it caught my eye one day as i was walking along the river trail. at first i thought maybe someone had left it there for free. i moseyed on over to investigate, expecting it to be a painting. i was blown away by the detail and recognized this painter as a genius savant. “why is this out here?” i pondered. i poured over it, captivated. i simply could not fathom how someone could have gotten all the light and shadows so lifelike. the precision. the care. the time. the dedication. i discovered that it was in fact nailed to the cabinet. no chance of it becoming a free piece of wall art for me. i took a quick last look, dumbfounded that a person could have done this. i wondered if it could not be a photograph. it was on canvas, not paper. i didn’t see any brush strokes. the medium flowed turbulent free into the weave of the canvas. i spent the rest of the walk occupied with the mystery.

some days later, i was again out walking. i remembered this scenic representation and once more stopped in the hopes of coming to a definitive conclusion about whether it was a painting or a photograph. i poured over the scene looking for clues. if there were any passersby they for sure thought i was more than several marbles short of a full jar. i had my glasses off and was as close to this thing as i could possibly get so i could inspect it. had i a loupe on my person, i would no doubt have had it out. i still could not determine what it was. i continued on down the trail.

on my way back, another pause. i marveled at it. no inspecting or examining; just appreciation. i, in awe that someone had created this with a brush and paint. perfect brush strokes that melted into the canvas to become one with it. effortless grey gradients. incomprehensible detail in the road surface, the trees. i settled into the idea of it being a painting, because it was the more romantic of the options. i had my camera on me. i stepped back, composed the frame, pressed the shutter release. i chimped the pic on the lcd back screen. zooming in to ensure it was a sharp capture. and. there. it. was. unequivocal proof.

the sign was the evidence. the lettering on it was just too perfect.

a photograph printed on canvas.

i knew. i know i knew. i just wanted to believe it was not. i wanted it to be a painting against the odds and my better judgment. i destroyed the romance in the relationship by diving too deep into its disposition. i should have let just it “be.”

but, sometimes, we can’t. we know we are deluding ourselves. something in our psyche won’t allow it, pushes us to shatter the veil of self delusion. it’s disheartening, but it makes us wiser.

i think . . .

maybe . . .

Published On: 2025 September 2

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