Sleep and Death: The Children of Night

A cloak of darkness enrobes a small family, cascading as if dropped from the heavens. Night is falling. Two children perch on a rocky outcrop limply touching their mother, entwined in a serpentine composition. Wind catches the mother’s cloak, whipping around her mirroring the dark blue waves of the seascape behind. The smallest child looks out, resting on a burnt-out torch, aware the final sleep is close. Evelyn calls upon the Victorian preoccupation with death and mortality through this gaze, connecting you with the subject and making you consider your own mortality. The crescent moon above signals the imminent darkness when the torchlight goes out, suggesting the cyclical nature of mortal life.