empty spaces

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch painter) 1853 - 1890 Boomstammen in het gras (Tree Trunks in the Grass), late April 1890 oil on canvas 72.5 x 91.5 cm. (28.54 x 36.02 in.) Kröller-Muller Museum, Otterlo, The Netherlands © photo Kröller-Muller Museum

Germany

Monique Wales (American, b.1966) "El Morro," 2023 30+ Layer reduction-method relief print

Erin Hanson (American, b.1981) "Pink Cherry Blossoms," 2018 Oil on canvas 30 x 24 in

Yaniv Nadav/Flasj90

Untitled - Edmonton Lane in Winter (2008) by Canadian artist, KARI DUKE (born 1960). Oil on canvas 48 x 36 inches

samantha cavet

Autumn Stream by Greg Hargarten ( Canadian, b.1964 ). Acrylic on canvas | 36 x 48". Location: n.d.

Rosebeds, Ruth Stage

Jan Regnart

Józef Rapacki (Polish, 1871-1929) "Stream in Spring," 1921 Oil on canvas 152 x 101 cm

Bradley Hendershot (American, b.1958) "Charcoal Cart," 1996 Watercolor 18 x 28.5 in

Victoria Pearce (contemporary Canadian artist) "Venice Beach Gold," n.d. Acrylic on canvas 30 x 60 in

Rudyard Kipling «Barrack-Room Ballads». 40. For to Admire The Injian Ocean sets an’ smiles So sof’, so bright, so bloomin’ blue;  There aren’t a wave for miles an’ miles Excep’ the jiggle from the screw.  The ship is swep’, the day is done, The bugle’s gone for smoke and play;  An’ black agin’ the settin’ sun The Lascar sings, “Hum deckty hai!” For to admire an’ for to see,    For to be’old this world so wide —    It never done no good to me,    But I can’t drop it if I tried!     I see the sergeants pitchin’ quoits, I ’ear the women laugh an’ talk,  I spy upon the quarter-deck The orficers an’ lydies walk.  I thinks about the things that was, An’ leans an’ looks acrost the sea,  Till spite of all the crowded ship There’s no one lef’ alive but me.  The things that was which I ’ave seen, In barrick, camp, an’ action too,  I tells them over by myself, An’ sometimes wonders if they’re true;  For they was odd — most awful odd — But all the same now they are o’er,  There must be ’eaps o’ plenty such, An’ if I wait I’ll see some more.  Oh, I ’ave come upon the books, An’ frequent broke a barrick rule,  An’ stood beside an’ watched myself Be’avin’ like a bloomin’ fool.  I paid my price for findin’ out, Nor never grutched the price I paid,  But sat in Clink without my boots, Admirin’ ’ow the world was made.  Be’old a crowd upon the beam, An’ ’umped above the sea appears  Old Aden, like a barrick-stove That no one’s lit for years an’ years!  I passed by that when I began, An’ I go ’ome the road I came,  A time-expired soldier-man With six years’ service to ’is name.  My girl she said, “Oh, stay with me!” My mother ’eld me to ’er breast.  They’ve never written none, an’ so They must ’ave gone with all the rest —  With all the rest which I ’ave seen An’ found an’ known an’ met along.  I cannot say the things I feel, And so I sing my evenin’ song:  For to admire an’ for to see,    For to be’old this world so wide —    It never done no good to me,    But I can’t drop it if I tried!

William Frederick Ritschel (1864-1949) "Boats Returning Home" (no date)

Grant Simon Rogers