"The Road Less Traveled"

24" x 30" watercolor and gouache by Ellen Rice (sold)

and archival gicle'e reproductions in several sizes

"The Road Less Traveled by . . ."

by Ellen Rice

I painted this with my mother-in-law in mind around the time she passed on. She was an angel in my life, a truly beautiful, loving spirit who brought light into the lives of many people whose paths she crossed.

She loved the feeling of light I captured in my early paintings, and The Road Less Traveled By is about light... and paths. This is one of those paintings that "painted itself." It's not a specific place, except perhaps in my heart, "the kingdom of heaven within," a place I'd like to be or perhaps somewhere I've been at some time.

I started with the sun and worked out from there. A distant mountain range just sort of emerged, then a meadow, then the old oak tree and split rail fence and the highlights from the sun gilding branches and grasses. 

After it was finished, I put it in the middle of a large stack of prints to flatten out ripples from the water colors, and there it lay for more than a few years, forgotten, only to reappear at a time when I needed the special feeling of light it gives me most.

​To my surprise, the original's first showing drew a great deal of attention. It was a show stopper. After several showings, I decided to put it in print. Not everyone can afford an original, and I wanted to share whatever it is about this painting that draws often teary-eyed, emotional exclamations of "I love your tree!" 

I named it after the last line in Robert Frost's poem, a poem whose sentiments strike home: 

"The Road Not Taken . . ." 

Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood 

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair, 

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that, the passing there

Had worn them really about the same

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh 

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood. And I -

I took the one less traveled by,

​and that has made all the difference.