(Article: OM-20255-273)
For many centuries, up until the beginning of the last, the 20th century, the sky over the North American continent was adorned by flocks of astonishingly colorful birds, whose ruby-sapphire-emerald plumage long troubled numerous “aesthetes,” “naturalists,” “collectors,” and simply lovers of shooting at something alive, until the last one was caught to decorate someone's dusty, trophy-filled study with its stuffed specimen…
The bird was called Paloma migratoria –
The Passenger Pigeon.
About eighty years after this sad event, I named my multicolored dream of a home by the same name, firstly because a home can travel at the will of its owner, instantly appearing wherever his whimsical imagination points, eliminating the systemic flaw of any other real estate - the depressing immobility; secondly, because the passenger pigeon does not exist, and neither does my home. And there is no point in building it, especially after realizing: a person in this world has no reliable dwelling and cannot have one.
Strictly speaking, he has no dwelling at all, except perhaps a fragile hut of his own imagination, constructed from his own feelings and thoughts in the Absolute Void...
Angelically shining clay
on the potter’s wheel of blue.
Brighter than the feathers of a colorful peacock,
a meadow is woven on a tablecloth of grass.
Like a large porous sponge,
the forest is soaked with the sweetness of syrup
from a rain of glass beads
under intricate syncopations,
trills, rolls, arias, glissandos
of an eternally brilliant orchestra.
A house in the forest. A radiant veranda,
a turret with a conductor’s stand.
The Passenger Pigeon rests
on the sloping tiled roof.
With the ocean’s roar, the forest sighs
over a mint-and-strawberry clearing.
Having fully admired the little lake,
angelically shining clay
under the sculptor’s invisible chisel
blooms with peacock feathers,
shaping mountains, grottos, and valleys,
building a Home, comparing it to the model...
The Passenger Pigeon drinks water
from the pitcher of a gentle hostess
and watches how dancing swarms
of wasps and bees strain honeywort.
And on the genius maestro’s tower
a violin strains the honeywort of the day,
like a peacock painted in bright colors,
guarding the secret of inspiration.
Artwork's condition:
Perfect
Year of creation of the painting:
2009
Artwork Type:
Original Artwork (One Of A Kind)
Style:
Figurative
Technic:
Pencil
Support or surface:
Paper
Topic:
Fantasy
Size:
Medium
Width:
64 cm
Height:
41 cm
Framing:
Yes (included)
Ships From: Austria
Delivery Cost: Shipping is not included in the price of the artwork
The shipping cost will be calculated at checkout. It depends on the size of the artwork and the delivery region, and typically ranges from €50 to €300.
Delivery Time: Typically 5-7 business days for domestic shipments, 10-20 business days for international shipments
Returns: 14-day return policy
To attract the attention of viewers, artists are recommended to provide more detailed information about where and from whom they studied, in which pla ...
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