Story of a Picture.

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"The hands fly looking for art, strokes and brush strokes forming part, old emotions giving shape, giving it all for art's sake".

Story of a Picture.

The artist took the white canvas without even knowing that was going to reflect on it, I wanted to do something spontaneous and without prior sketches that could subtract naturalness to the work, Tila asleep in his armchair preferred with a copy of a Braque decorating blue walls of the study seemed a great and magical moment to immortalise in time.

First drew and embedded for more late to add color to the scene, while he executed it, Tila because the ailments of age after a few days of agony died, prisoner of sadness the artist continued with the portrait, and once was so satisfied of the result that decided not to undo never work, Tila in her dream was still with him , and each time the artist looked at her perceived its heat and I could feel her side.

The artist continued to work on new works, many customers were interested in "The Dream of Tila", but the artist despite multiple bids never sold it. With the passing of time his hands were clumsy and the artist stopped creating, and all those moments of bitterness for what was lost just was quiet and felt happy contemplating placid way how was dozing Tila in her armchair.

Forgotten and ignored by all the artist died in one of those chilly spring nights, when passing several days of their death relatives was found in its study seemed to snooze in placid way opposite the portrait of Tila.

Once cremated the body of the artist family collected everything you thought of some value and decided to sell the House with some belongings, among those items was the picture with so much love the artist dedicated to the dream of his beloved Tila.

The new owner of the dwelling of the artist was a very superstitious man and for a strange reason caused him a bad vibration the presence of that animal that seemed so peacefully sleeping inside the box, took down it the wall with the intention of throwing it away and just at the moment that was going to throw the portrait to the recycling container an acquaintance who by chance passing by the street understood the gesture and asked that gave, the superstitious man fondly accepted the request, but... as his friend walked away with painting between the hands... had a premonition.

Time passed and the artist's Studio became an unhappy home where superstitious man badly lived with his family, the vices, mortgage and lack of initiative taken to economic bankruptcy, without car, bad dress and drunk he always toured the city, on one of those walks the optimist pouring gasoline and driving a luxurious car met his old friend the superstitious man approached and after the initial greeting asked for the reasons of its apparent success, the friend told him:

Do you remember that picture that you gave me? My wife had a clothing store and in a wall hung it, one day came a very elegant marriage, they had seen the box through the glass of the showcase and asked my wife if it was for sale, how my bewildered wife hesitated left a phone to contact while they fired him said they were open to any price I called not knowing what to say and it was they who made the first offer, an offer to which I not refused.

Ira completely studded superstitious man tried to conceal the rage and asked for the exact amount of the offer, but the optimistic friend of benevolent form told him that no, which was much better that did not know the number that sold the painting, qualifying that he did it out of necessity and that it would have had enough money even this friendly animal dozing and decorating the walls of your home.

Bid farewell in a hurry, the superstitious walk and the optimistic driving a stylish car, happy and happy one, and the other with bile bitter, spitting jealousy and full of rage.

The work of the artist shifted House but still continues to play with the function that was created, decorate a wall and illuminate the soul, on this occasion, two souls, of the man and the woman who could see between the different strokes and colors of the box part beauty, brilliance, and all that love the artist felt as you created it.

Back of each brushstroke, every stroke, each polished, each hit and back every chiselled is the hand of the artist, but also the essence of the soul of the creator and those who trample it, belittle, destroy and aimed are always challenging the misfortune, and inviting his personal ruin.

Dedicated to Karen Daliea, for being my friend and for allowing his work to be part of my creative inspiration.

"Bare walls honouring the desolation, portraits, reliefs, nudes and landscapes decorating inside, un cadre House is not a home, pictures are for walls so for flowers, paintings, watercolours, ceramics, tables, forgings and the terracotta which we hung on the walls of the household always speak and have things from us"

Story of a Picture.

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