The Final End 1992

Edward Ruscha made this piece called *The Final End*, using graphite and oil on paper. The words, emerging from this gray-scale haze, like clouds maybe, are being consumed by some dry, wheat-colored grass. I feel the weight of 'the final end' but with this weird lightness, like the drawing is almost floating. I imagine Ruscha in his studio, patiently layering these delicate blades of grass, one by one, as if time itself is being woven into the surface. There’s something melancholic about seeing these words disappear, like thoughts fading from memory. It reminds me of other artists like Vija Celmins, who also explore ideas of loss, ephemerality and the passing of time in their work. Ruscha almost seems to be having a conversation with them, across time and space. It makes you wonder about your own endings, big or small.