Tibet 1933

This is Tibet by Nicholas Roerich and it feels like it was made with a limited palette of blues, purples, and whites, a bit like a faded dream. I wonder about Roerich standing there, brush in hand, trying to capture this vast, untouchable scene. It's like he’s inviting the viewer to witness a mirage. Did he feel small, standing before those mountains? I know I would. The paint application looks thin, almost translucent, like watercolor, which adds to the ethereal quality. Look how he’s layered the colors to create depth—the darker blues in the foreground, fading into softer purples and whites as we move towards the peaks. It’s not just a landscape; it’s a mood, a feeling. Roerich’s paintings resonate with artists who explore spirituality in their work, or those like Agnes Martin, who find the sublime through simplification and repetition. Artists are always looking, borrowing, and riffing off each other. It's an ongoing conversation through time. Ultimately, painting is about feeling and an embodied expression that keeps us searching for meaning, even if it remains just out of reach.