He was not going to post this, so I did it for him.
This drawing was a gift from Swarmcrow to me. Now it is a gift for him.
There he was, the Artist, running under the rain, taking cover from tree to tree with a somewhat spontaneous drawing in his hand. He could not take that rushed piece of art form his mind, he could not take from his mind the sad face of a clown crying, screaming his searing pain out from a searing throat, on top of a non existing background. A more pretentious artist would have lied about it, a more pretentious artist would have lied about how the blank represented the void in the clown's heart, the emptiness of his sorrow, the eternity of his mourning. But not this artist, not the Artist, he knew the drawing lacked something that would truly depict the emotions of the clown. As the Artist stared at the drawing the final drops of rain started mating with the paper fibers on which the clown cried silently. In awe the Artist lifted the paper and saw the clown's tears roll down the paper sheet, hanging in the edge for a moment before falling to the ground.
Now his creation lived, but it was still a fake life,it still failed to depict what true sadness really feels like. As the Artist stood there, frozen in place by the tears of a paper clown, the first rays of sunshine broke through the receding clouds and the birds began to sing anew. He neglected the returning joy from his feelings, he fought against the peaceful scene that developed all around him, closing his entire self from the light and joy for respect of the clown's pain. But amidst that denial he found what his drawing lacked. The Artist knelt, picking several flowers that had fallen to the dirt. Crushing them against his paper clown a sight escaped his lips.
-There.- he said. -Now it also has irony.-
Originalmente el dibujo se iba a llamar "But doctor, I am Pagliacci", pero al final el texto se fue más a como fue coloreado el dibujo que a lo que yo sentía. No puedo evitar pensar que Pagliacci es un personaje muy importante en Watchmen porque todos, en algún momento de nuestra vida, somos Pagliacci.
Cito Watchmen:A man goes to the doctor. Says he's depressed. He says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. The doctor says "Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him, that should pick you up." The man bursts into tears. He says "But doctor... I am Pagliacci."
Etiquetas: Misceláneo 3