These were days never to be forgotten. 
JSH 1:71

This portrait of Oliver Cowdery offers a symbolic rendering of his spiritual journey, conveyed through a luminous landscape divided into three movements. Each phase is marked by a distinct palette and mood—narrating not just a life of faith, but one of fall, return, and enduring witness.

The first stage (1829–1838) is ablaze with radiant reds and oranges, rendered in a pointillist style that evokes the fire of revelation. These warm hues represent Oliver’s awakening—his foundational role in the Restoration:
scribing the Book of Mormon, receiving priesthood authority, standing as witness to sacred visions and divine visitations. It is a time of light, of purpose, of prophetic companionship. The colors burn like the Spirit that moved upon him.

The second phase opens in 1838 with his excommunication. The warmth recedes into a brooding sea of blue—cold, turbulent, and isolating. The heavens that once opened are silent. Oliver finds himself estranged from the Church, the Spirit, and his former certainty. This is his wilderness: a time of inward struggle and spiritual exile, where belief is not denied, but eclipsed.

In the final chapter (1848–1850), a soft gold light returns.
It is gentler now, less fire than sun at dusk. This final glow signifies reconciliation—the restoration of priesthood blessings, and peace with God and the Saints. Though his body was frail, Oliver’s faith revived.

In his final months, he bore solemn testimony to Jacob Gates, who asked
whether it had all been a dream. Oliver replied:

Jacob, I want you to remember what I say to you. I am a dying man, and what would it profit me to tell you a lie? I know that this Book of Mormon was translated by the gift and power of God. My eyes saw, my ears heard, and my understanding was touched, and I know that whereof I testified is true. It was no dream, no vain imagination of the mind—it was real.

When asked about the angel under whose hands he received the priesthood, Oliver said:

Jacob, I felt the hand of the angel on my head as plainly as I could feel yours, and could hear his voice as I now hear yours.