A study of Lucian Freud’s work. If ever there is a self-portrait of me, I am the horse looking at the man, wondering what self-inflected struggle has brought him to this. A place most of us have been in, one time or another. A contrast of the different reds, both in the background as well as the man himself and the multi-textures compared to the cleanness of the white horse that almost glows.
The horse, a whitish yellow, behind and to the right. The man, colors yellow and red, eyes, unseeing. Hair so black. The background, turbulent, volcanic reds anxious to explode.