The room appears to be holding its breath. Late afternoon light enters quietly through the window, tinted green and gold, settling across the furniture in long, deliberate shadows. The day is not yet over, but its urgency has faded, replaced by a moment of pause. This is not a scene of action; it is a scene of reckoning. Everything within the frame seems arranged for contemplation, as though the room itself recognises that something remains unresolved.
At the centre of the composition, an unopened letter leans against a vase of pale calla lilies. The letter is modest, almost unassuming, yet it carries the emotional weight of the painting. Its seal remains intact, a physical barrier between knowledge and ignorance, choice and delay. By placing the letter unopened, the artist captures a universal human moment: the hesitation before a decision that cannot be undone. The letter’s lean suggests vulnerability, as though it might slip at any moment and force the viewer—or the unseen occupant of the room—to confront its contents.
The surrounding objects deepen this tension. The couch, warm in colour and soft in form, offers comfort but also inertia. It invites rest, suggesting exhaustion after a long day, a desire to postpone difficult choices. The coffee table, solid and grounded, anchors the composition, while the suitcase tucked beneath hints at movement, departure, or the possibility of change. Its presence implies that a decision has already been considered, if not yet accepted. The room, then, exists between staying and leaving, between comfort and consequence.
Light plays a crucial role in shaping the painting’s emotional atmosphere. The late afternoon sun casts elongated shadows that stretch across the walls and floor, emphasising the passage of time. These shadows are not harsh, but they are insistent. They remind us that time continues forward regardless of hesitation. The warm glow contrasts with the cooler green outside the window, suggesting two emotional landscapes: the interior world of familiarity and the exterior world of uncertainty.
The calla lilies add another layer of meaning. Traditionally associated with purity, transition, and remembrance, they stand upright and serene, indifferent to the turmoil suggested by the letter beside them. Their calm presence contrasts sharply with the implied emotional weight of the unopened envelope, reinforcing the idea that life continues, quietly and beautifully, even during moments of inner conflict.
Ultimately, Decision is less about the letter itself than about the moment before action. The painting invites the viewer into that suspended instant when possibilities remain intact, when nothing has been chosen, and everything is still possible. It captures the universal experience of standing at a crossroads, alone with one’s thoughts, aware that the day is ending and that whatever comes next will be shaped by what we decide—or choose not to decide—now.
Oil on canvas: 96 x 109 cm; 37.7 x 42.9 in Painting number 1 in this series. (Sold)
