I Throw My Rose at the Bull

I find violence against the innocent for entertainment both abhorrent and sad. In this painting the bull has defended his life against the many swords of the matador. The empty seats in the stadium reflect the silence and disbelief of the crowd, the accessories to the matador’s actions. Red blood escapes the matador blending with the red of the cape, linking the red in the rose that I throw to the bull in victory.