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The majestic white steed in the title piece, “Death of a Rider,” rears up on a twilit beach, letting its rider tumble off like Icarus behind it.

Gaze upon a twilit sky, the endless shore, the receding vista, the inside of palm to forehead.

Down below, the hotel’s daytime pool party is coming to a bass-heavy, twilit close.

Druks, for her part, “paints women with their animal familiars and pagan accouterments, still lifes of twilit tables set with magic objects, all in deep, jeweled colors, full of hidden dream meanings,” Janssen said.

A group of red-cheeked girls playing soccer, ponytails flying, their shouts and laughter carrying faintly over the velvety, twilit field.