I had an image stuck in my head of a grave at the crossroads and no road driving over the grave. I researched it this morning, and it comes from My Antonia. I didn't particularly like that book, the class in which I read it, or the teacher who taught the class, but I do like this image.
Mr. Shirmerda killed himself. It was customary at the time and in the culture to bury suicides at the crossroads. There were no roads, so they buried him at the corner of the lot, where there would likely be roads one day. Grandpa predicted no road would go over the grave, and his prediction was true.
I painted this small canvas (2"x2") with acrylic paint and covered the back surface with a magnet. I've never been much of a painter, but I am satisfied with the final product.