In most cultures, there is a mythology that addresses our
journey into an afterlife. Often, these stories include a
“guide”, whose job it is to deliver us to our final reward.
In The Coachman, I have painted a black carriage driver
who is employed in doing this work..
He smiles a Cheshire cat grin, as if to say, “ Hey, cousin, it’s you, not me, that’s responsible for your fate.”
In one hand he holds a bull whip, for those who have
conveniently detached themselves from their conscience, becoming strangers to their souls.
In his other hand, for those of us who have been “good”, a cream pie awaits, for a joyful party that will last for Eternity.