Acrylic on canvas, Age 11 (2005) 48" x 60" Original & Prints Available
This the second part of the story of the abandoned Asian girl that I first painted when I was nine. After her long communion with God in the mute field she was drawn to the hill of the blossoms where now she rests in a golden dress and smells each fragrant branch. Behind her are foggy lakes, gray sky, gray mountains and sad memories which she’s left behind. But on the top of the hill there’s a spirit of hope and love.
The war in the soil. The seeds are too young to fight. While the eyes breathe the guilty still feel no remorse. The cobwebs with knots.
Across the blades of harvest improper dreams wrinkle the childhood. Without any cries and without any touch the cradles are left behind.
Bleeding through hopeless unconsciousness it seems that a rainbow gushes through me. And rainbow-colored I leak out onto the hope.
A silhouette of the eyes follow me to the warmth of times. Only the innocence grows the conception.
Held in dust the pain of wisdom. The trust is through hope. Inside each fragrant branch the colors of love…