Starship

“Starships.” Muses Nick. He spanks orange from his brush. “Space ships, cargo ships, dog shits— they’re all someone else’s trips.”

Brach’s ears are still ringing: ‘We shall, before the end of this decade, send a man to the moon, and return him safely to the earth!’

“He launched a generation with dreams.” She reflects.

“But what does that mean now?” He asks.

Nick’s golden harvest sun pulls Brach’s mind back to a far place in time, but far away people feared red.

“Then he was dead.” She sighs.

Nick mixes cyan with cobalt. “Ask not…” He reminds Brach. “…what Camelot can do for you, lest an usurper followeth the golden tongued king and leadeth thou off to war…”

Brach’s eyes fall behind the sunset and slip into a black that fades to blue.

Starship

Bob Fox

Ypsilanti, United States

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Artist's Description

A man has come along and raised the hopes of a young generation…

Artwork Comments

  • RMonroe
  • Bob Fox
  • George Yesthal
  • Bob Fox
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