Leda on Magdala (2)
October 27, 2009 by the.light.bearer
No one had ever asked me about Magdala before that last exhibition in Venice took place. Who is Magdala? or even, What is Magdala? Usually I love explaining people about the inspiration, the story, the people, or simply my feeling behind each of my framed painting.But not about this one. Magdala, is a painting I leave people to judge, to guess, to have fun figuring out. It’s like lying on a bed of green grass on top of a hill with your best friend, or husband, or dog, and looking at clouds floating above you. You use your wildest imagination to give each shape a label. I spotted a broken bowl that spilled fruit loops out of its crack, once. Or two holding hands with one butterfly in one of the hands. Most of the times I make out all sort of transportations (from bicycle to jet plane) that could bring me far away from here, back to where clouds only shape Magdala.
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No one had ever asked me about Magdala before that last exhibition in Venice took place. Who is Magdala? or even, What is Magdala? Usually I love explaining people about the inspiration, the story, the people, or simply my feeling behind each of my framed painting.But not about this one. Magdala, is a painting I leave people to judge, to guess, to have fun figuring out. It’s like lying on a bed of green grass on top of a hill with your best friend, or husband, or dog, and looking at clouds floating above you. You use your wildest imagination to give each shape a label. I spotted a broken bowl that spilled fruit loops out of its crack, once. Or two holding hands with one butterfly in one of the hands. Most of the times I make out all sort of transportations (from bicycle to jet plane) that could bring me far away from here, back to where clouds only shape Magdala.
