I was sitting in the subway. Someone sat in front of me sat down holding a hand painted wooden box.
—“How beautiful!”, I exclaimed.
—“Would you like to purchase it?”.
—“I’m afraid I’m only carrying five euros”.
—“Sold”, he said with a smile.
Impulse purchases like these are a rarity in me. It was a nice box, but what use would I give it? I looked closely at the painting: it is signed by Esther, who shares my mother’s name, and is also an artist. And she also paints flowers on random objects. I knew then it was meant to store my art tools.
I thought I had inherited my father’s engineering inclinations, but since having this box I’ve felt my mother’s artistic side too. It simply represents a formerly unacknowledged artistic heritage, which was meant to be explored.
It’s still an ongoing process. My intention is to eventually draw something every day with my log, but it depends on the availability of time. Meanwhile, I’m grabbing things which I have drawn before.
