Maureen O'Leary American, b. 1965
Prince Andrei’s dream, 2021-23
Oil on linen
20 x 14 inches (50.8 x 35.6 cm)
CT-11190
Fifteen years had passed since 1812, and this night, like many other nights, Prince Andrei had bad dreams. Again a ball of fire fell from the sky but this time...
Fifteen years had passed since 1812, and this night, like many other nights, Prince Andrei had bad dreams. Again a ball of fire fell from the sky but this time he was scared that Natasha had been hurt, not he, and only he could hear her cries.
A thin curtain lay against the open bedroom window, and an unseen moon behind the linden trees of his estate, Bogucharevo, cast gross tree shadows across the curtain as it blew softly. All was either blue light or dark shadows. He could see Natasha, blue in the light, sleeping very deeply, as she had been told rest was good for her voice.
After some time, Prince Andrei turned his head to the cold part of the pillow that he favored, relieved that the dream was not real, and fell into his deepest sleep of the night.
A thin curtain lay against the open bedroom window, and an unseen moon behind the linden trees of his estate, Bogucharevo, cast gross tree shadows across the curtain as it blew softly. All was either blue light or dark shadows. He could see Natasha, blue in the light, sleeping very deeply, as she had been told rest was good for her voice.
After some time, Prince Andrei turned his head to the cold part of the pillow that he favored, relieved that the dream was not real, and fell into his deepest sleep of the night.
