"Phantōm whispers" by Dulcinea del Toboso / Dōn Quixōte adventures thru the spirit worldRegular price $35,000.00
Size: 330cm x 205cm x 5cm
Materials: acrylic on canvas, ropes, water, air, and fire
Years: 2019 - 2021
Work capacity (painting): ~480 hrs est.
Work capacity (Study): over 200 hrs
Genuine artwork of the heārtist (S'che) school of Air
Schoōls: Necromancy, Alchemy, Illusion, Evocation, Invocation, Summon
Illusions come up surprising me, every time they happened, I find myself gazing upon the eyes of the beholder, my heārt stops beating and my phantom hand is painting, Dōn Quixōte, Isn't just a knight for me, he is me, you, and everybody around us.
Dōn Quixōte is a legend, sure, everybody knows that he was a hero and also a knight.
I find alot in common with this one crazy-knight, who fought against giants and gave all his loot to his beloved Dulcinea del Toboso, the lady of the wind he loved.
eventually, Don Quixote was fighting against windmills, and this lady Dulcinea didn't know him at all.
so this was all in his head? in his spirit?
maybe Don Quixote is an analogy to us, to love, to this life?
maybe if we just think about it, we will understand that in each and every one of us there is this person who wants to find the unconditional love that he's willing to give his life for.
so, for me, Don Quixote is nothing but the hopelessly romantic guy who wanted to share his love with his lady of the wind, who blows the story (from the leftmost corner of the painting) and blows him as a knight of the wind, which is a phantom knight, and he is riding his horse, a nightmare or a hellhound or a spirit dragon, well choose whatever you want, each pair of eyes will make different animal to this phantom beast.
and he is holding his lance while passing the narrow path of the sea of death, which is no other road than the crossing of the red sea, the meaning of the path we need to walk to free our minds.
his white lance is fighting against the spirit world inside of him, his fears, and he believes, and the flames of his black lance of immortality hit the very flash of the windmill giants.
these imaginary creatures inside his head, like we all, fighting against the wind, against beliefs, against ourselves.
so who's the fool now?
And the ground's not cold
And if the ground's not cold
Everything is gonna burn
We'll all take turns, I'll get mine too
/The Pixis , monkey goes to heaven
well it's fire everywhere and if we look at each round bubble of a windmill, we can see eyes, all over the place, and every pair of eyes make an illusionary face.
meteors swarm burn everything, the flames of Don Quixote lance of passion make it impossible to resist his charm, his love, to his beloved lady of the flame now.
"Mighty waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot sweep it away" songs of solomon 8:7
and there is the water all around, the white foam of the waves who hit the side of the path, but wait... all of these eye-bubbly things are nothing but air bubbles and Dulcinea is drowning, like that noble and that knight that almost everybody knows his name, but nobody knows that story anymore, people do not read, they, like this work of mine, has no earth element anymore, it is all about wind carry the whispers of love, passion make fire, and then reality quenches everything like the water, and I ask when we will eventually be able to feel the ground?