Even if you have drawn hundreds of times, your hand vibrates when you hold the pen, then my love art begins. Either if the proportions don’t keep up, if the eyebrows blink. If you make your model older or more childish, if the sea becomes purple or the sky is green. The dance of the line starts with these concerns…
My Love Art,
In fact, this excitement makes the line the center of your life, this excitement creates your indispensable love. This excitement makes the faces that look like they will get out of the canvas. This makes the strip cartoons that make you laugh, cry, think, chill and warm.
With the first stain, excitement dissipates, but it does not disappear, it wraps its whole body. The first lines are beginner and coward, but if you don’t give up, you’ll find the divine balance. Then, if you have a love line, if you have patience, the ends that will start again, it flows, glides on the canvas.
Art on the human face,
Neither excitement nor worry remains in the curve of the eye, the curvature of the eyelash, the sphere of the eyeball, the trunk of the tree, the green of the leaf … Do you take off the lines and hit the shadow, portray, break or dry the tree branch, as if you lighten and go to other dimensions. You have neither your hand nor your heart nor your breath.
Everything is meaningless,
You will feel so frivolous in such a meaningless life that all the chaos,crack on the wall, siphon of the toilet, spider web in the ninety corner, and the rotten ball on television. It is as if it is a temporary narcosis, you will not see, you will not hear. Finally, your fatigue will nudge you. You confirm it with a great back pain. It is four in the night, your eyes are about to close….
My love is art,
Brush falls from the hand, the bed is painted, pajamas are painted. You lie on your bed without even pulling your duvet, with a final force, you lift your eyelids and look at the canvas. She is laughing at you, the brunette girl wearing a rose in her hair, you wear a smile and you fall asleep, and after three hours the you will wake wth same smile and with the service’s horn which brings you to the prison of the engineers!
You throw out the brush, paint and smile and you are back on the truck with a face that can’t laugh until you meet again art.
Yes, my love is art, piano, poems, cartoon. But l have to earn money, have to survive! God gave us talent but human NOTHING! Now art is my longing!