The work was not originally this way.
it was a practice bust (I did not even cook the clay). I had finished this thing, and left it for many months to dry in oblivion, broken as it is, looking at it I felt bad, it was like leaving a puppy.
One morning I felt that I could not see him in the eyes anymore, that I somehow anchored myself to all the things that I left incomplete.
That morning I decided strongly to reuse the clay, pouring water, I thought it would be interesting to see how it would melt, and like the ghost of Christmas past, my dad comes out of the kitchen (because I have a father who cooks) and he stops me, he looked for a very old dictionary.
Then he pointed out the myth of Anteus...
Antaeus is a giant of Greek mythology who lived on the island of Irasa. Antaeus challenged and killed anyone who dared to go through his domain, as he had vowed to build a temple to Poseidon with human skulls. He always won in his fights, since every time he fell to the ground or touched her, Gea gave him strength again.
In this way, he challenged Heracles, who knocked him down three times, but without success, since Earth, his mother, revived his strength. Hercules realized this and lifted him up so that he could not receive his mother's breath, managing to suffocate hi
My mom has the habit of sending me Whatsapps works of famous artists with the intention of inspiring me... One morning I get up and see my mom's daily message
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