Sunday Morning
acrylic
24 x 48
The scene is Main Street in Lynchburg, Virginia across from one of the oldest continuing community markets in America.
Once a rich tobacco center, it is still a city of remarkable buildings and architecture. Up the rise beyond the market is cobblestoned Church Street where the demoninations vie for prominence in the magnificence of their buildings. Downwards is the James River where a slain Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson was placed on a bateau for his last journey from the wilderness to his home and finale repose in Lexington; prescient of his dying utterance, "Let us cross over the river and rest in the shade of those trees."
Lynchburg today is the largest American city not situated on an interstate highway; but on a Sunday morning the downtown still rest in an earlier time and the 19th Century seems to look on the street again from empty windows.
Once a rich tobacco center, it is still a city of remarkable buildings and architecture. Up the rise beyond the market is cobblestoned Church Street where the demoninations vie for prominence in the magnificence of their buildings. Downwards is the James River where a slain Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson was placed on a bateau for his last journey from the wilderness to his home and finale repose in Lexington; prescient of his dying utterance, "Let us cross over the river and rest in the shade of those trees."
Lynchburg today is the largest American city not situated on an interstate highway; but on a Sunday morning the downtown still rest in an earlier time and the 19th Century seems to look on the street again from empty windows.
