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THE ROAD TO IMAGINATION

It was a long time ago. So long that I’m not sure whether it was reality or just my imagination. I was on the exhibition. Jan Chlpka
September 8 2014

I still remember spacious gallery fully decorated with pictures with
lots of visitors. People were looking on paintings looking for the most
beautiful ones. I joined myself to the crowd and took delight in the beauty of
the art.

Now, after some time, all those paintings that I’ve regarded with
such an enthusiasm had faded away but one painting – which I didn’t notice at
first – stayed engraved in my mind. Nobody noticed that picture. Everyone just
flashes with their eyes without stopping in front of that painting. Only one
man was standing and standing there. And he was looking on that painting with
amazement. That man captivated me. I returned to the painting. I couldn’t
understand what it represents. It was empty, no colors. Simple frame, pure
canvas covered with white color. Nothing more. Only signature in the right
lower corner. On the piece of paper near the painting was the title: My life.

I stopped beside that man gazed at white painting trying to see everything
that wasn’t painted there. But I didn’t follow. I couldn’t understand it.
Gradually around us, around me and that man, people began gathering. They were
observing trying to solve the mystery same as we were solving. The man said: “I
see painter, I see an artist who painted this picture. His first stroke with
the paintbrush, his insecure hand. The heap of sketches. Lot of work, lot of
sacrificing, lot of love, joy, happiness, but also worry, pain… I can see his
first paintings painted without skill; his maturing, always more complex and
more thorough paintings. So thorough that they have become more and more
simple. Spiritually complex and technically simple. At last this is final
painting that he made. These are his thoughts; this is a picture of himself…”
“Did you know him?” I asked. He didn’t answer. He was going outside. I stayed
in front of the painting for some while and than I went outside after him. I
was pushing forward through the crowd. I wanted to catch him up; I wanted to
talk to him. I ran out on the street, looking on the right and left side. But I
could only see faces of strangers. The man vanished. The thought I would never
see him again flew through my mind but… He surprised me. He was sitting on the
stairs just a few steps away. I didn’t expect to find him there. He told me to
sit beside him. We were sitting and looking at pedestrians who were teeming in
front of us. I realized that there is nothing to be asked, the words were
meaningless. We were silent. He pulled out an apple from pocket and gave it to
me. It was red, big, heavy. I imagined a tree decorated with red apples. The
apple-tree was big, old and healthy. Its roots reached deep under ground.

When I stepped to reality I realized that I’m alone.



 THE ROAD TO IMAGINATION   It was a long time ago. So long that I’m not sure whether it was reality or just my imagination. I was on the exhibition.

Artworks Styles : Not available
Artworks Topics : Figurative
Artworks Media : Oil In Canvas - Oil On Canvas - Pencils



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