How we cite our quotes: (Section Break.Paragraph)
Quote #1
"I mean, they just collect stuff. Dad collects other people's money and Mum collects people's drawings. What do they really do that's theirs?" (1.43)
There's something about buying other people's art without creating any of your own that comes across to Gemma—and us—as kind of shallow. And she hasn't even seen Ty's outbuilding art gallery yet.
Quote #2
I'd never seen a man cry before, only on TV. I'd never seen Dad close to crying. Those tears looked so odd on you. It was like the strength of you just seemed to sap away. The surprise of it stopped me being so scared. I took a deep breath and looked away. The walls were painted in large streaks of color. There were bits of plants, leaves, and sand stuck to them. (15.7)
The tears have more to do with Ty's emotional attachment to his art than anything else. It's interesting how his reaction shocks Gemma on a level that speaks to what she looks down on in her parents. Unlike her dad, Ty shows emotion, while he obviously cares about art on a level beyond just collecting and consuming it.
Quote #3
"You're sitting in my painting," you said at last. You leaned forward and touched a leaf. "I made all this." You moved your hand along the edge, stroking the sand. "There were patterns and shapes, made from the land.… " Your face went rigid and angry as you surveyed the damage I'd done. Eventually you shrugged, sighing as your shoulders dropped down. "But you created a different pattern, I guess.… In a way, it's almost better. You're part of it." (15.9)
It's funny how Gemma ruining the painting kind of becomes an object lesson for what Ty's trying to teach her about having a relationship with the land. He tells her later that she needs to see how she's part of the landscape. Here, she literally is.
Quote #4
You sat, folding your bare legs in front of you. You took a paintbrush from behind the rocks, dipped it into a rusty-colored paste, and started painting your foot. You painted long thin lines, making your skin like the texture of tree bark. You frowned as you focused. (37.11)
Ty's thing with painting his body is kind of bizarre, but he seems to see it as a crucial part of his relationship with the land. He may intimately live within it, but his art helps him to become it.
Quote #5
You didn't let me finish. You were up in a second. "You think that's what I want?" Your voice cracked. Then you pointed the paintbrush at me. "Do your hand now," you said firmly. It wasn't a request. You pushed a saucer of brown-earth paint toward me. I saw the pulse in your throat throbbing, your jaw tense. "Paint yourself. Now." (37.122)
In the paragraph that comes before this, Gemma suggests that she talk to her dad and get Ty some help from a lawyer or doctor. Ty's reaction is to force her to paint her hand. It's as if he recognizes that she buys into the culture she comes from and wants to assimilate her into his culture of the land. And, um, from the looks of his jaw, resistance is futile.
Quote #6
"Like my painting?" you said.
"What is it?"
"Everything around us. The land." You grinned. "It's not finished yet. Every bit of wall will be part of it; me, too."
"Why?"
"I want to capture this, all this beauty, I want to connect … I want you to see everything the way it is before … while you're here." (74.5-9)
Unlike Gemma's mom's consumption of art, Ty sees creation as a way to directly connect with the land he's portraying, a way to become intimately involved with it. While we're pretty sure he was doing this before Gemma got there, we also think he's using the artwork to help her understand the beauty of the wilderness.
Quote #7
All around me was color and sparkle, almost too much to take in. You'd worked quickly, transforming the space. You stood in the middle of it all, your painted body reflecting the light also. Your back was the only part of you not painted. There was a strong herbal smell, like the smell your roll-ups gave out. It was heavy and intoxicating. (76.1)
Ty's masterpiece sounds like it was ripped out of Woodstock. What Gemma is so intoxicated by is the fact that the painting is so interactive—it engages the senses on a deep level that she's likely never experienced before.
Quote #8
As the sun set further, the colors became more vivid. A red washed over everything, brightening the darker sections in the painting. Shafts of light lit up the floor, illuminating the millions of painted dots and flower petals there. Reds and oranges and pinks intensified all around us, until it felt like we were sitting in the middle of a burning pit of fire … or in the middle of the sunset itself. (76.33)
Whoa. Ty's art literally comes to life in the sunset. We'd like to see Gemma's mom's art acquisitions do that.
Quote #9
I turned my head and tried to take in all of the painting at once. My head was reeling a little; from the colors and the light, or your cigarette, I don't know. That room was so different from all the other paintings I'd see with Mum, so much more real somehow. And yes, I admit it; it was beautiful. Wildly beautiful. Your fingers traced patterns on my arm: circles and dots. The touch of them didn't scare me anymore. (76.38)
This is what we think supports the argument that Gemma doesn't actually have Stockholm syndrome but genuinely connects with Ty. Her experience with the sunset painting opens her eyes to who Ty really is—not a scary kidnapper who fantasizes about hurting her but a creative, passionate person who wants to reveal to her the beauty of his land.
Quote #10
And then I realized something else: I knew what you'd been doing, all this time, in your outbuilding in the desert. You'd been painting the land as it looked from above, just as a bird would see it or a spirit or me … your swirls and dots and circles drawing out the pattern of the land. (103.10)
As Gemma looks down at the desert from the plane, she doesn't see nothingness the way she would have before meeting Ty. Instead, she sees Ty's paintings. What probably would have looked like sand, sand, and more sand several weeks ago now looks beautiful and reminds her of him.