I resumed sketching after perhaps 8 years. It feels strange. Like I'm meeting an old friend. Or maybe visiting places I've been to before... I don't know. The first just made itself. The second was a whim on a cold december night while I was waiting for my turn in badminton. I was observing the shadow of the shuttlecork as it swung from side to side. Which got me thinking. Light and shadow and life and death and winter and spring. All one and the same? Or all the same? Is it merely about transition or about two different states altogether and their contrast???
The shaman and A horse. Not THE horse. Just A horse. A shaman. Mystery man. Is he supremely unnatural or completely in tune with nature? Is he the Machine, bringing a semblance of progress amidst illiteracy or the Spirit? Something completely different altogether? Why does he persist in our minds even amidst steel and nuclear technology? Why doesn't he die?
The horse is the shaman. Free. Boundless. And yet, completely controlled. One by his own limits and duties, the other by a rope. A study in contradictions. Or merely a chaotic muddle of thoughts. I do not have the answers this time.