This woodcut reminds me a bit of Gauguin's with its use of nautral yellows and browns and sophisticated use of primitive mark-making to create expressive figures. They are so abstract, and yet convincingly real; many marks suggestive of details, yet without firm commitment. Reminds me of when I recall the face of someone I know well, how the face at first seems photographic in my mind, and yet if I try to focus on specifics everything falls apart. The two "brothers" (who I assume are monks given their bald heads, dark robes, and hands clasp in prayer) emerge from a wooden background. The one on the right turns his head toward the other. I imagine him whispering something about whatever they are both standing in attention toward. The one of the left is hunched over, head turned in a solemn gesture, but one eye focused out. What is behind his focused gaze? Inner peace? Judgment? Guilt? Certainly something profound. For years this work has hung on my wall, and I never tire of examining that eye with wonder.