I made this drawing of the ruins in the the Natural Park between Castilblanco de los Arroyos and El Real de la Jara on request by J. The fields weren’t this wavy and the sky wasn’t as dark, but the landscape felt grand and the small silhouettes of pilgrims walking towards the ruins gave the scene something daunting. We joked about ghost stories and sat between the tiny white flowers in the grass. I was the happiest I’d been in months. And then, for no reason, J showed me a picture he took of the ruins and said “draw them for me, if you want.” I think he expected a more joyful portrayal. Perhaps a more skilful one as well. But yet I kept my promise.
Quick drabble in addition to yesterdays post.
I had to draw some nightmares out.
Night has a way to make you remember those things you want to forget about the most.
What is it that my soul is craving?
Why do I feel so empty and lonely inside?
Why is it that I count the hours at day
Only to stare at the ceiling at night?
The skin on my bones seems to no longer fit
A trim on the edges could fix it, maybe
Shave the hair, burn the clothes
And wash off the itchiness, that is me
Autumn winds have scorched the leaves on the trees
Soon they will fall like death from the sky
They’ll be crumbled by the footsteps of strangers
Despised and forgotten, my friend, so am I