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He looked into the abyss, and the abyss looked into him.
By this point, Henry had achieved something of a fragile, dysfunctional, equilibrium with his grief and guilt. Tormented by Ann's revenge, his only relief came in the form of the numbness found at the bottom of the bottle. Given long enough I'm sure he would have drunk himself into an early grave, eerily echoing his comedy routine about death by tickling, drowning himself in booze in an unconscious mimicry of Ann drowning in the raging sea.
But this ersatz plan of quiet dissolution is abruptly derailed when Henry is assaulted by vivid memories of his most intimate moments with Ann as the realization of which song Annette is playing pierces his alcohol induced fog. He's clearly stunned, not only by his memories, but by the fact that Annette knows the song AT ALL. The revelations that follow during his confrontation with the Conductor are shattering, suddenly calling into question Henry's identities as Ann's undisputed beloved, and as Annette's father, that he thought were inviolable. It's this desecration of his most treasured memories, the complete destruction of his self-identity, and the threat of the loss of his child which prompts his most fatal error in judgement yet.
The irony is that by taking the action he does, Henry ends up losing everything he was trying to save.
Photo used for reference was a screencap taken by me. I loved the way this shot was framed, with the conductor haloed in red behind Henry. The dominant yellow in this scene speaks to how present Ann is, even in her absence, with Henry's green evident only in the highlights in his hair and suggested in the reflections of the mirrors.
About 9 hours of painting time for this one. I spent way more time on that brown sweater of his than I thought I would. There's 5 color overlays and 2 color gradient maps that are making the color magic on this one; my layer panel looks like a pride rainbow, I love it.
By this point, Henry had achieved something of a fragile, dysfunctional, equilibrium with his grief and guilt. Tormented by Ann's revenge, his only relief came in the form of the numbness found at the bottom of the bottle. Given long enough I'm sure he would have drunk himself into an early grave, eerily echoing his comedy routine about death by tickling, drowning himself in booze in an unconscious mimicry of Ann drowning in the raging sea.
But this ersatz plan of quiet dissolution is abruptly derailed when Henry is assaulted by vivid memories of his most intimate moments with Ann as the realization of which song Annette is playing pierces his alcohol induced fog. He's clearly stunned, not only by his memories, but by the fact that Annette knows the song AT ALL. The revelations that follow during his confrontation with the Conductor are shattering, suddenly calling into question Henry's identities as Ann's undisputed beloved, and as Annette's father, that he thought were inviolable. It's this desecration of his most treasured memories, the complete destruction of his self-identity, and the threat of the loss of his child which prompts his most fatal error in judgement yet.
The irony is that by taking the action he does, Henry ends up losing everything he was trying to save.
Photo used for reference was a screencap taken by me. I loved the way this shot was framed, with the conductor haloed in red behind Henry. The dominant yellow in this scene speaks to how present Ann is, even in her absence, with Henry's green evident only in the highlights in his hair and suggested in the reflections of the mirrors.
About 9 hours of painting time for this one. I spent way more time on that brown sweater of his than I thought I would. There's 5 color overlays and 2 color gradient maps that are making the color magic on this one; my layer panel looks like a pride rainbow, I love it.
