![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76lRAnhuMs4yjkNkPPJt60ozZ2Rla8ROjueUGK0VLZFbD5qAJFcetKJTCqVFYf6TGKAWeSc5o55QdIxL6YaJbyclVMNcTBGKniuBv43XIhCHtwOb4Gj32sSgz7GtM1QOuwMFiuG2ydf0/s320/cotopaxi.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZmh9jEnUFqCyGsaCociShWr4kSRgn7HXmoc7MuQw5MB37C988x-O4iyDu26LZTGYDsY1bV568STg7MLJOtFOjZwkEblj2mmy9RQBtdM6WpV5pzeqfmtVrIJM2qit3K5ULQiGaPNfVfw/s320/La+Ligne+de+la+Rupture.jpg)
Both of these paintings have been particularly important to me. I discovered them years ago while young and formative and still refer to them for instruction and pleasure. Cotopaxi [1862]by Frederic Edwin Church is an ultimate example of a narrative landscape. He packed his paintings with so much information and scope they`re practically cinematic. And what an apocalyptic view! The abstract piece by Joan Mitchell, La Ligne de la Rupture [1970], is actually much larger yet it`s strength lies in it`s intimacy. It has always felt to me like a suspended moment of summer. A pulsating landscape of grasses, sky, sun and water. I tore the image from a magazine in 1976 and it has given me comfort and hope.