I think a lot about the future— about flight, war, and space travel, what aspects of our civilization they have yet to change and those they couldn’t ever change. Sort of a cousin to Wreckage; maybe they are near-future tragedies?
I do not have a tale in mind for these two but I think their genesis may be partly owed to reading Ted Chiang's short stories and Le Guin's The Lathe of Heaven recently. Apparently I don't like sci-fi unless it hurts.
I love the colors in this painting. The warm, red and yellow light in the background vs. the cool purple and gray in the foreground. Feels like the warm fibrand world just keeps going on although their little world is ending or dying.