The Horse Thieves 1901

This is The Horse Thieves, by Charles M. Russell, though the date is unknown, it feels like it has emerged out of the dawn. The painting breathes with soft pinks, mauves, and browns, hazy and dreamlike. I imagine Russell, brush in hand, capturing this moment between night and day. What was he thinking, I wonder, as he built up these layers of color, the moon hanging high in the sky? The texture feels smooth, almost polished. It feels like the horses are being pushed forward, but it's all a bit dreamy. This isn't about sharp edges or reality; it's about memory. It feels deeply connected to the landscape tradition in painting, but with its own rhythm. Painting is like having a conversation across time. Each stroke feels like a word, a whisper, and the meaning shifts depending on who’s listening. It’s all about feeling, not knowing.