Here is another larger Illustration entitled “Opium, 9×12”.

They say Love can be as addictive as a drug. It impairs your judgment and reason, it provokes physical reactions you wouldn’t experience in normal times and it makes you dependent, vulnerable. It’s an intoxicating feeling, the passionated rush makes you feel ecstatic for a short period of time, while when the object of your love is missing it provokes great pain, as if one of your limbs was tore off. Just like a drug addiction you feel the desperate need to get more and more of that intoxicating embrace…
My characters seem to share the same addiction, they breath in each other’s soul, maybe until they both completely dry out. Or until they run out of Opium…

I’m just trying to be poetic…

I’ll wrap up on a little piece of Poe’s poem…

“Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought
To a fever by the moonbeam that hangs o’er,
But I will half believe that wild light fraught
With more of sovereignty than ancient lore
Hath ever told – or is it of a thought
The unembodied essence, and no more
That with a quickening spell doth o’er us pass
As dew of the night time, o’er the summer grass?
Doth o’er us pass, when as th’ expanding eye
To the loved object – so the tear to the lid
Will start, which lately slept in apathy?
And yet it need not be – (that object) hid
From us in life – but common – which doth lie
Each hour before us – but then only bid
With a strange sound, as of a harpstring broken
T’ awake us – ‘Tis a symbol and a token -”

Till soon…
– D

  1. davidrhales says:

    I like the heart shape the two heads make.

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