| I was running through Brownhill Creek. I could hear in the far distance some sort of a beat, it became louder as I progressed. Suddenly, there, in the forest, was a solitary drummer. I was pleased, the drummer looked immersed. I know this painting is not set in the forest, but i see the drummer, be it a he or a she, as playing unaccompanied and for the pleasure of it. |
