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domingo, 22 de marzo de 2015

Magnanimous longevity: PORTRAIT POSTHUMOUS 2!


portrait of Asela Certad By Jonathan RL

Why do we exist? What is the reason for our stay? What should be the end result? ... Worth it? you need to be present in four dimensional drawings to consider that something exists. The first three dimensions and the fourth dimension: time. We exist because we remain. We stay in seconds, minutes, hours, days and years in the universe.

What is the reason? That depends on us. The purpose of our life depends on how you look at the world and how we act against circumstances that manifests itself in our way as time travelers we are.

















Asela Certad was a woman, a nurse, who dedicated his life to service. I choose to write their reason for being on the canvas of life. The portrait of this post was another commission by the son of this wonderful woman who had never known if it was not because I chose to be a painter. But it is a pity that only reached me her picture. It had been several years that had passed.

Embodied in the work is a journey through time as we have noticed. In the background you can see the younger version of Asela and facing the same woman but more alone. With a noble look that leaves no doubt.
By Jonathan RL
Creative progress of portrait 
It was a picture that helped me feel very proud of my technique for portraits. Although not a technique you intend to stay but use the brush has rather brought me closer to the lives of countless people. People that defines me. Despite my clumsiness. From my mistakes painting redeems me. And makes me live a journey in time. An adventure unparalleled in the early life of a person who has earned my respect to without knowing it. The magnanimous longevity than defined now restores me.

Video of creative progress


Each work is an event in my life. Asela existed and still exists. And I'm glad to be part of this perpetuity of his life work.

The waltz of the flowers, the scent of some lilies, romantic violins smile evoking a spring breeze, the whisper of a ghost in my ear while I sleep out with a brush full of oil in hand is kind to each my hair strand.


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