As I view this piece, my eyes are occasionally led over to the vanishing point on the left (in the distance), but keep coming back to the focal point around the butterflies. This movement happens largely because of the shadow that the rock casts in that direction. The blue of the sky and the orange of the rock are very intense and bright (highly saturated), and their opposition with each other also contributes to the back and forth motion of our eyes as we view the painting. If the blue color was not as saturated, more focus would be on the right side of the painting, it would have too much “weight,” and our eyes would linger there more. As a result, the painting’s composition would be less balanced.
Also, because the butterflies appear to be abnormally large (in comparison to what we assume is a rock face or cliff), we do not have a concrete sense of scale or proportion. This creates an interesting sense of ambiguity, and as a viewer we’re not sure if in fact we are very small, or simply lying close to the ground, or if these are mutated giant butterflies next to a huge cliff. Who can be sure? There aren’t even any pebbles on the ground or other recognizable objects in the paintings to give us clues about scale. The bottom-most butterfly shadow (as well as the butterflies themselves, and the shadow cast by the rock) has a sort of glow around it caused by the lighter orange color surrounding it. This causes the shadow to further “emerge” from the surface it’s supposed to be cast on, making it appear more three-dimensional and adding focus to it. We know that actual, “real-life” shadows do not have this effect, and so it creates a surreal feeling