Wind People

We were staying at the house of many winds. It sounded like being inside of the deserted trumpet. The wind people come and go through our windows - bowing, murmuring, rushing out from the opposite end of the room. Other times they argue and slam the shutters, sometimes their visit is gentle - they apologize in whispers, leaving only curtains gently dancing. {September, 2019}

Wind People, graphite on paper, 2019

Wind People, graphite on paper, 2019

Today I’ll Be A Horse!, graphite on paper, 2019

Today I’ll Be A Horse!, graphite on paper, 2019

A fashionable lady was sitting by the gate at JFK International Terminal. For hours she has been looking at the screen of her phone, having put her skinny high-heeled legs on top of the carry-on luggage, which twitched and shivered as if it was freezing. A crew member has announced the boarding of the very first class passengers, when the luggage of the fashionable lady opened a little hole in its zipper. A chunky finger stuck out of it and, like an icebreaker ship in the Arctic, went through the zipper around the luggage, turning a little hole into a gaping void in the mouth of the lady’s carry-on. A chunky, fashionable gentleman with crickets for a mustache carefully stepped out of it. The fashionable lady peacefully laid down on the floor, he took her by her hair (I believe it was a well-attached wig) and dragged her gracefully across the floor to boarding. (September, 2019)

Gate #3, graphite on paper, 2019

Gate #3, graphite on paper, 2019

Beware Of The Gardener, graphite on paper, 2019

Beware Of The Gardener, graphite on paper, 2019

Bzzz, graphite on paper, 2019

Bzzz, graphite on paper, 2019