I have a bunch of scraps of wood lying around my room so I thought to make use of them. And a sharpie was sitting right next to it. Perfect! I thought. So I started drawing squiggly lines on the surface, creating undulating forms that create their own shape and space. I thought of my poetry class, oddly enough, and took the advice of my teacher: if the poet isn't surprised, the reader won't be either. I just started doodling, without even thinking about what the subject was. I loved how the marker squeaked on the wood's surface, and seemed to get stuck in the graininess. As the piece progressed, I started to see a subject taking form, a life being born, and a story emerging. I love abstract pieces because you can interpret them in infite ways. For me, I see sadness in this piece, like two lovers walking away from each other, if from an argument or whatever, both not wanting to leave the other but being forced to do so. And the feeling of always leaving something behind, with the other person. The wood is broken in the corner, so I thought it fitting. Likewise, if something is broken, it doesn't mean it's unfixable. I believe these two lovers will reunite someday.
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