This painting was done after the blue lady & the critical self. The dog is in a white empty room. A small window is above eye level so he can’t see outside. The only bit of outsideness that has managed to get into the room is a small bee or fly which the dog is watching without enthusiasm nor playfulness. The only bit of the outside available to the dog is unpleasant.
Painted in my 20s, the dog is me. yes, depression about life & the cosmos was a constant companion. Note when the critical self is placed beside this painting, the lady is pointing her finger at the dog & is ready to whip it with the cat-o-nine-tails. Yes, my inner self was very critical of me. This placement of the figures was done without forethought, even if it was quite accurate. I didn’t notice the relationship between the paintings until I put the white one against the wall for drying. Weird, eh? oil, mid-1970s, indiana [b]