Raw Umber
The people of the earth disappearing into the landscape, becoming one with it. The land they work upon around them has reflects itself on skin, in their bodies. The wind has drives its intentions into their hair, it is a branch of a tree twisted. Thoughts are rooted firmly at certain points, but then drift away like the grass of the fields. Bound to one place like a tree, not meaning their thoughts and feelings are like the grass surrounding them and where variety and excitement exist permanently it’s diversity.
