It was the sound of my heart breaking.
When I forged for you clippers to break the hedge. “Set me free?”
Instead you used them to rip out my wings.
Cracked the bones even when they were still attached.
Robbed the desert soil of it’s gold.
These are my just rewards;
For there is nothing new underneath the sun.
“Whosoever breaketh a hedge, a serpent shall bite him”
Fear is the second time I have ever used chalk on black paper. Tales from the Children of the Light is a series, inspired by the many interesting random strangers I met over summer and how they made me think. But I couldn’t get around to doing this until now because (I guess) writing in France is a lot easier, I usually come up with this stuff at the oddest times (like I came up with Fear at church and the next one at a concerto). Enjoy.
I think I was afraid…
I was afraid of love and honesty,
because they seemed unattainable.
I was afraid of hatred and deception,
because they could carve out eternal wounds.
I was afraid of seeking perfection because it did not seem to exist.
I was afraid of imperfection because it was not worthy of me.
I think I was afraid of tears because they were worthless.
But I was also scared of not being able to cry because it was an indication that I had become emotionless.
I think I was afraid of the dark because it was seemingly safe. But it lied to me and blinded me. I could not see.
I was afraid of the light because although it trusted me to be able to bear the truth, it revealed so much. And in an instant, I could see everything.
I think above all I was afraid of my fears, they were illogically logical, and they had the power to control and to cripple me.
This is the seventh piece from the Black Sketchbook. Park Bench started off without direction. I don’t remember why I called it Park Bench, I set out wanting to draw something pretty and I ended up with this.
It was until I looked closer at it, that I realised that it was probably inspired by two very special people in my life, I and A. This is because park bench is a symbolic interpretation of their relationship; every complaint I makes seems to have a suffocating effect on A, and every time she sighs seems to have a poisonous gas effect on him. They get on each other’s nerves to the point where it almost looks unhealthy.
It is bizarre, they have been together for 20 years and even though they are total opposites of each other they usually seem to make every difficult situation work… in the end. I have watched them go from height to low, I have watched them have catastrophic arguments about the most ridiculous things and then laugh about it a few days later. They always seem to come back to their senses in the end and they seem to grow stronger after each argument. I cannot really tell if such a relationship flourished because they are individually strong and can take whatever the other dishes out or because opposites were just meant to be (like opposite ends of a magnet).
I like that even though the darkness underneath his eyes indicates that he is dying from it all, he stayed close. I did not finish drawing or shading Park Bench. And I don’t think that I will ever finish it; it will remain unfinished and endless just like the relationship between I and A.
This was the first piece I created on my second sketchbook (which we will refer to as the Black Sketchbook). The truth is prior to me obtaining the black sketchbook, I had always looked down on my art. I did not take it seriously and saw it as something I do to pass the time. I did not invest any money in it because that seemed like a waste and I drew on printing paper because we had loads of those at home. In fact the black sketchbook was a hand me down from my older sister; she didn’t need it anymore and it was unused, so she gave it to me. Little did I know, at the time, that my sketches and what little painting I did had become a medium for expressing myself. The black sketchbook became my personal diary.
Okay enough about the sketch book and now my thoughts on The Man and the Violin. Around the time I drew this, I was going though that phase where I listened to a lot of classical music. Even if I didn’t want to, my younger sister was always up early playing the violin. It was refreshing and peaceful, that was the feeling I got when I drew him and it is the same feeling I get when I look at him today. However, the man with the violin has a weird twist to him. He isn’t orthodox; he has a tiny safety pin running through his eyebrow, he isn’t wearing a tux or a 3 piece suit but a weird tight shiny shirt. He is both wild and peaceful thus his characteristics seems to contradict itself. That contradiction was something I could relate with at the time I drew him and even now. The man with the violin is calm and peaceful but at the same time rebellious and free. Although I hadn’t noticed it at the time, I see it now; freedom seems to be the running theme in the Black Sketchbook.
Hi guys, welcome to my art space. On here I will post stuff derived from my mind and created with my hands. Enjoy!