I drew this right after I finished reading Tigana.

I was feeling really distraught at the time (this was three days ago). It really got to me, made me think about the frailty of our memories.

I mean, I'm so terrible at remembering things it frightens me. I can never remember my dreams, just scattered fragments, a few images and sensations which remain after it. Most of my memories are like that. I forget everything except the way something made me feel. In a way, all I remember are emotions. It scares me sometimes, especially when I forget something I swore, or thought I couldn't possibly forget.

This was drawn without a sketch, directly in ink. I also wanted to see how I would manage without an eraser, just going with the flow. I let my emotions guide me and this is the result.

I feel despair when I see this one. The circles in the distance are like bubbles, patterns, pathways of our memories, entwining and in the end melding with the darkness, fading away until very few fragments remain.
The wing, for me, is a symbol of our wishes, our hopes, but it is as fleeting as a memory.

It's a metaphor, all of it. Tears of the figure, and my tears, bloody palm print, everything in a desperate attempt to keep precious memories from slipping away...

Took me four hours to finish, and it had a cathartic effect on me. In the end, all of that despair I felt simply faded away.

I hope you like it.