Take Only What You Need (1995)

At the center is a steep, earthen hill, almost mound-like, rising as a self-contained world. At its peak sits a small house or shrine, reached by a ladder that runs straight down the slope, suggesting ascent, effort, or a moral path. The hill is divided into zones, each with its own activity and meaning.

Three human figures, all dressed similarly in white shirts and dark trousers, occupy different levels of the landscape. The central figure stands above a small pool of water, holding something close to the chest, positioned as a kind of axis or steward. Below and to either side, two other figures work the land, tending plants or carrying water, reinforcing a rhythm of labor, care, and sustenance.

A red ribbon or path winds through the hill, connecting the figures, plants, and structures. It feels both organic and deliberate, like a lifeline, a boundary, or a moral thread binding actions together. Vegetation appears symbolic rather than naturalistic: stylized trees, crops, and patterned growth that suggest cycles rather than specific species.

The sky is split into day and night at once. On one side, a crescent moon and deep blue tones; on the other, a bright sun against lighter sky. Time collapses into simultaneity, implying balance, duality, or the coexistence of opposing forces. Clouds float as decorative, almost glyph-like forms rather than meteorological ones.

Smaller hills with similar structures echo the main mound in the distance, creating a repeating world pattern, as if this is not a single place but a model for many places. The overall perspective is flattened and icon-like, closer to folk painting or devotional imagery than Western academic realism.

Taken together, the painting feels like an early moral allegory: about stewardship, restraint, cycles of work, ascent and descent, and the idea that one should take only what is needed. It has the clarity and directness of a parable, rendered with sincerity rather than irony, and already shows your long-standing interest in symbolic systems, ethical landscapes, and quiet social commentary rather than spectacle.