Click the image to enlarge. Original watercolor on handmade paper. 140 x 114 centimeters.
I recently completed the wonderful translation of Don Quixote by Edith Grossman. I attempted to read this lengthy tome several times but never passed the first few pages until this beautiful translation. Having just moved to Spain the pages came to life in ways that would have been previously impossible. The juxtaposition between his ludicrous Quest to be a knight errant and his showings of emotional accessibility and intellect transfixed me. In particular, the tale of his thinking the windmills were opposing knights was eerily reminiscent of T***p’s delusional nature. But the most moving to me was the tale of his descent into the cave of Montecinos. It so reminded me of our descent into our unconscious—if only we were willing to brave the unknown. It was one of those rare very long books that I wished had not ended. A delight. In the painting, I tried to capture his delusional look at life, while respecting his obvious humanity. He was quite a paradox.
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