A lone tawny-hued figure climbs onto a train car. Our subject gazes toward the horizon, as if to be watching her past transition as she continues a journey into her new life. Seeing a train makes us reminisce of childhood; of a time where everything was easier, the possibilities for adventures were endless, and we could travel anywhere with just our imagination.
A giant mouth is hidden in plain sight, between the tracks. Once the lips are noticed, the secret feature is unavoidable. The shading on the tracks above the lips resemble the human philtrum, helping integrate the addition. The mouth is a reference to sensuality, without being overtly suggestive.
I was studying the proportions of yellow, green, blue, and red in Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss” when I composed this. Bits of green and red exist as highlights and sunlit reflections in the rocks and train wheels.
A graininess, reminiscent of high-speed film enhances the texture of the distressed metal and unifies the sky with the rest of the textures. The vibrant energy of the climber stands in contrast to the weathered train cards, her curves contrasting against the stern, vertical lines.