Original Painting for Sale by Artist
Medium: Acrylic on 300GSM Paper
Painting Size:
21 W x 29.7 L Centimeters
8.3 W x 11.7 L Inches
 
One cold, winter day a little girl asked her mother, “Mommy, can we get a cup of hot cocoa here?” The mother looked through the window of the cafe and saw how warm and cozy it must feel inside but alas, this was not a possibility. They didn’t have the “right papers.” Their family wasn’t on the “right side” of the public and therefore, access was denied to all non-essential shops. She put her foot back on the pedal and guided the bicycle in the light rain towards home. Home, a place that had a hot cocoa recipe book filled with experimental recipes in crayon. Recipes that the mother and daughter enjoyed making while under segregated lockdown. 
 
***
I was completely tormented that day as I sat in the rain with my 3-year-old on the back of my bicycle; all bundled up in her bike seat. I knew the consequences of my family’s personal decisions and at the same time, I was pissed. I was so livid.   
 
Husband and I, after what seemed like endless research and thorough consideration of all sides… decided not to get the ‘rona jab. We are a half-vegan, active family that rarely even takes aspirin or paracetamol; making most of our meals from scratch just to monitor what goes into our bodies. We considered our lifestyle, familial health and societal responsibilities and we reached our decision.    
 
I sat down with my paintbrush and let all that torment and confusion pour out of me. I felt like a helpless teenager in my room again; where others dictated and controlled my world. I wanted the government to look me in the eyes –the eyes of a healthy, educated, responsible woman– and explain to me that they were setting me apart from others just because they could. That elected officials were segregating me and my family away from others who had the same choices we did. Citizens could trust their bodies to naturally recover or they could choose to protect their bodies with the assistance of a vaccine. Either side of the coin, you should be protected and therefore, treated equally. 
 
The Cranberries, “Zombie.” 
 
"But you see, it's not me; It's not my family.
In your head, in your head, they are fighting.
With their tanks and their bombs,
And their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are crying.
 
Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie
What's in your head, in your head?
 
Another mother's breaking heart is taking over.
When the violence causes silence, we must be mistaken.
 
It's the same old theme since nineteen-sixteen.
In your head, in your head, they're still fighting.
With their tanks and their bombs,
And their bombs and their guns.
In your head, in your head, they are dying."
 
***
 
But I don’t want to put you in a box. We all have lived different lives and have had different experiences that shift our focal priorities and unique perspectives. The language you translate this piece into makes no difference to me so long as your interpretation makes you feel something. 
 
When you look at this painting, what do you see? What do you feel? What do you remember? What is the first song that comes to your mind? 
 
I’d love to hear your interpretation. Please consider sending me a message with your unique translation of this painting.
 
xoxo, 
Your Travel Artist