Cattles Of My Village (A Symphony of the Herd)

Against a granular, earthen ground, a herd of simplified bovine forms drifts like remembered icons—burnt orange silhouettes punctuated by an anomalous white figure that reads as both absence and witness. The composition avoids a single horizon, scattering bodies across the surface in a quiet, ritual procession where scale shifts and open space become a kind of breath between presences. Green accents—horns, hooves, and a sprig of foliage—inject a note of survival and appetite, suggesting a cycle of grazing, renewal, and the persistent pull of the natural order beneath human abstraction. The rough texture and blunt chroma lend the scene a primal immediacy, as if the image were unearthed rather than painted, hovering between pastoral calm and totemic intensity.