The Man and The Vision

The vision of hope

I have a narcissistic vision: I would like for my artistic monuments to be recognizable worldwide and to be perpetuated as landmarks in their field. I predict that it will be so, but what is the difference between prophecy and hope?

The present?

I have sterile loneliness within me: it protects from vulnerability and invigorates towards the inevitable moment, when cuddling with the past of the praised ego is all that will be left to do. But what is preferable, a broken past or a complete present?

The fear of death

A bit on the artwork, some on myself
The time is the present of 1889; I am the young visionary that gazes heroically into the future. Behind me is the framed present as a corridor to the visioned future. The establishment’s recognition and esteem is just a hand reach away from me, but still elusive.
In the passage of time I stand, many years later, old, alone, more introvert and less arrogant, sorrowfully voyaging back through nostalgy and wondering what is was that I have accomplished after all…