Just over a year ago I sketched this on my tablet.
I was a Sunday. And I was waiting with someone in the emergency ward.
Her husband had just been admitted to the ICU. Again.
But instinctively we all knew that the end was near.
A digital clock on the wall read “3:15 AM”
So that’s what I do when I wait somewhere: I either sketch something on my tablet, or I just stare absent-mindedly at passers-by.
But there weren’t any other souls in the waiting room, except us.
I translated a painting from across the passage into my own style.
That’s where this little line drawing originated.
And that morning I recalled a question from many years ago, “what am I looking at?”
A colleague who looked at one of my old drawings asked that, “what am I looking at?”
Because he didn’t like my art, and he didn’t want to bother interpreting it for himself.
But now I know, I could’ve replied with, “You’re looking at signs of life.”
While I’m still drawing, I’m still alive.
Paintings and drawings, music, and books- They’re all proof that someone shared some of their “life” at that moment in time.
We don’t always need to recognize the meaning, as long as we can appreciate the signs… That traces of life were left behind.