What’s To Be Done!
A Tragic Dilemma in the Battle for Survival
The artwork depicts a harrowing scene: a man, adrift in a turbulent, stormy sea, clinging desperately to a solitary tree trunk. His boat has capsized and is now submerged, pulling him down with a cruel rope wrapped around his leg. He's tethered to his potential demise.
His options are stark and terrifying, mirroring the difficult choices many face in life's seemingly insurmountable predicaments.
Option 1: The Perilous Dive. He could attempt to untangle himself from the submerged boat. This means diving deep into the dark, tumultuous water, risking his only lifeline—the floating tree trunk. There's no guarantee he could free himself, nor that he'd resurface with anything to cling to, as the canoe is already firmly wedged beneath heavy rocks. This path is most likely a futile attempt at survival.
Option 2: The Hopeful Wait. His alternative is to remain clinging to the tree trunk, trapped but alive, hoping that a passing boat might discover him. He's immobilized by the rope, unable to maneuver, his survival entirely dependent on external intervention.
This is the unbearable dilemma that inspired this piece: the agonizing choice between a risky, almost certainly fatal attempt at self-rescue and a passive, equally uncertain wait for salvation. To me, it’s a powerful metaphor for those moments in life when all paths seem laden with uncertainty and danger, a depiction of life and death. The man's struggle isn't just against the hostile elements of nature, but against the crushing weight of a no-win situation, forcing him to confront the very limits of human endurance and the fragile line between survival and submission. This painting is a depiction of human suffering, a portrayal of a dire situation that many people find themselves entangled in.
The Small-Size Canvas
I did this work several years ago, and now that I look at it, what comes to my mind is not the tragedy of the dramatic scene itself, but a self-inflicted artistic dilemma: "Why in the hell did I choose to do this on a 16 x 20 inch canvas?" The obvious answer, at first, is that the 16” x 20” size used to be my favorite size since it is remarkably cost-effective. However, in the context of this specific piece, that practical choice inadvertently created a significant problem. My intention was to depict a man in a life-or-death struggle, his leg hopelessly entangled in the depths, facing a harrowing choice. Yet, due to the small size of the canvas, the water appears too shallow.
This visual consequence risks undermining the very core of the narrative. An observer, after understanding the man's predicament, might reasonably conclude, "Well, the water isn't that deep; he could probably just go down, quickly untangle himself, and swim back to his floating tree trunk." This interpretation completely misses the point, diminishing the profound, inescapable dilemma I sought to portray.
The most frustrating part? This wasn't a conscious artistic choice. When I created the artwork, I simply didn't consider the impact of canvas size on the perceived depth of the water. I had an option—to spend a bit more on a larger canvas, perhaps a 20” x 40”, which would have allowed for a much greater sense of depth and, crucially, visually eliminated any illusion of an easy escape for the man. I didn't recognize this option until it was too late. Now what can I do? I can redo this concept on a larger canvas or live with the consequence of my decision. I find myself in a similar situation to the drifting man I portrayed. What’s to be Done?