(or The Horror That Had Occurred at Tull)
60 x 25.5
Acrylic, watercolor, and drybrush on canvas, stretched over a handmade hardwood frame
Stephen King once said that he has a filter that catches ideas in his head, and the ones that never get washed away - the ideas he can't stop thinking about - are the ones that he eventually writes about. Since reading that (and I'm positive I butchered his exact words), it's the same process I use for my canvases. I've been thinking about these images since I read The Gunslinger as a teen (I'm old AF now), and have never quite been able to forget them.
I really wanted to avoid copying Michael Whelan's killer work in the editions I read - my relative lack of talent means that I could never do what he does, but I wanted something more abstract that hinted at things beyond the action (ie, from certain angles, you can see who is really pulling the strings as Roland cuts down the townpeople of Tull). I don't know if I ever quite got there, but I'm good with how it all shook out. And, with apologies to poor Roland, who's to say I won't get a chance to do it over again, haha
"Once again there was the desert, and that only."