Unfinished Simphony

When the composer starts to write down the tune that obsesses him at a certain moment, an infinity of possibilities appear with every note of the new music that rises up from the depths of his soul. It's like a road with many many paths that lead towards different Unknowns. It's up to the traveler, as well as the artist to chose.

This work of mine is done out of such a choice. It may seem childish or rough, especially the character. I know, it's a vectorial image and I'm just brushing up on my skills in working with vectors. I've done it for practice first of all. I've come to a point in my creation process where I'd rather step backward a little than repeat the same tune over and over again like an old record machine.

Secondly, of course it has a story, like any creation on this earth. But maybe I'll tell it later. Or not. Maye I'll let you chose from that infinity of possibilities to tell the story of my character. Enjoy.

P.S. I had to add a watermark. I'm not very familiar with Blogger and I don't know if viewers can or cannot download my works. So, as a measure of safety, I did this. It's also very fair from my point of view, because I've worked almost 40 hours on this and I don't want to reduce them to zero.

Bye for now.

The_Beauty_Within

Her soul wanders beyond the darkness around her... Far away, to the ocean, to the waves of silky glass that fold in the wind. She tries incessantly to find an escape, a door in the sky, to enter the world where dreams can become reality. Even if it will take forever... Even if she'll be lost for this world, she wants to fly away, to leave everything behind. Maybe there would be things to keep her here, but they are few. One day, her soul will rise in the air, weightless like a butterfly, beautiful and will find that door to her dreams.

Drawn_to_the_light

This illustration is moreover a sort of "art for art's sake" kind of piece, although the philosophy beneath it quite deep. It's about all night insects that are inexplicably drawn to any source of light. The problem is that more than a half of these insects fly to close to the light and so their wings catch fire because of the heat it emanates and they fall to the ground and die. It's a fascinating and infinitely repeating ritual of nature. I'm not a scientist, I'm just an artist, I have no idea why these little one-day creatures are doing this.
Also, I'm not a psychologist and I don't know why I'm drawn like an insect to the light of his passion, although I know deep inside that I'll get burnt and eventually, I'll fall to the ground and break all my bones, again and again and again...