Scary? Harrowing? Dark? If I were required to verbalize how I feel about this sculpture, one of these adjectives may come handy, but these are rational descriptions that do not exactly describe the shock I experienced when I set my eye of this picture.
I have not seen the real work itself, so what touched me would have nothing to do with its dimension, or the skillful handling of the material, or the power that comes from the texture. I was shocked because it looked so familiar, yet that was not exactly deja-vu. All I can say is that it is talking to my sub-conscious. It is the archetypal images calling. Then came an immense sadness, a sorrow not over any particular incident but over us as human beings.
The sculpture has not got a conventional base. Its feet touches the ground as ours do. Wax and epoxy enhance the fluidity of the form, speaking the transcendence of our existence. The warmth and coziness of the wood and cushion magnifies the solitude and helplessness it entails.
What love for human has the artist got for her to create something like this.
