Childhood memories 9 - Kalash. (Digital download - 2042 x 2732 pix)
The Kalash house sat quietly on the hill, but for us, it was a place of adventure. I was five, and my brothers and cousins often brought me along because there was nowhere else for me to go. We’d sneak onto the balcony and claim it as our own, until the day Kalash’s friend chased us off with a rifle.
This digital painting reflects that wild escape, Wissam pulling me by the hand as we ran down the hill. The earthy greens and browns capture the rugged landscape, while loose brushstrokes add texture and movement, reminiscent of oil on canvas. Light and shadow stretch across the hillside, freezing that fleeting moment in time.
I remember the fear, but more than that, I remember feeling like I was flying. This piece honors the rush of childhood adventures and the protection I found in my brother’s hand as we raced toward safety.
The Kalash house sat quietly on the hill, but for us, it was a place of adventure. I was five, and my brothers and cousins often brought me along because there was nowhere else for me to go. We’d sneak onto the balcony and claim it as our own, until the day Kalash’s friend chased us off with a rifle.
This digital painting reflects that wild escape, Wissam pulling me by the hand as we ran down the hill. The earthy greens and browns capture the rugged landscape, while loose brushstrokes add texture and movement, reminiscent of oil on canvas. Light and shadow stretch across the hillside, freezing that fleeting moment in time.
I remember the fear, but more than that, I remember feeling like I was flying. This piece honors the rush of childhood adventures and the protection I found in my brother’s hand as we raced toward safety.
The Kalash house sat quietly on the hill, but for us, it was a place of adventure. I was five, and my brothers and cousins often brought me along because there was nowhere else for me to go. We’d sneak onto the balcony and claim it as our own, until the day Kalash’s friend chased us off with a rifle.
This digital painting reflects that wild escape, Wissam pulling me by the hand as we ran down the hill. The earthy greens and browns capture the rugged landscape, while loose brushstrokes add texture and movement, reminiscent of oil on canvas. Light and shadow stretch across the hillside, freezing that fleeting moment in time.
I remember the fear, but more than that, I remember feeling like I was flying. This piece honors the rush of childhood adventures and the protection I found in my brother’s hand as we raced toward safety.
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