Tuesday, October 11, 2011
I was going through some old art work the other day and came across several paintings that I'd done after my partner passed away. Some of them are quite dark, and yet reflecting on them reminded me of the journey I was going through at the time. The lack of direction and procrastination reminded me of how I feel now. Trying to put positive and uplifting content into this blog sometimes seems near on impossible.
Dry pastel on a painted background.
|The Book Seller|
3B Pencil on white cartridge paper
I did this drawing from a photo in National Geographic. It's the story of a man haunted by the past. He lost a leg in the war, after being wounded and taken to a Soviet Camp. There he drank a bottle of vodka and allowed his cell mates to amputate the limb with a knife. Now he wears and artificial leg. He is also a man who loves books. They are his passion. He sells them on the streets of Legnica from a baby carriage. Because he is old and crippled, boys often steal from him. And because he is a man who loves books, he buys them back an hour later. His spare time he spends in bed, playing chess against himself.