This whole series started as an experiment and ended out as what felt like a self-portrait. As an artist, you choose to enter a scene, where your vulnerability is showcased to the rest of the world. Just as frail as the smoke, the inspiration, and the drive that made you go through all sorts of turmoil can be blown away by the smallest wind. One can only hope to be present while the inspiration is there. A second later it’s too late.
One may have a blazing hearth in one’s soul, and yet no one ever came to sit by it. Passers-by see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on their way.
Vincent Van Gogh