In a village or town somewhat far from here lives a mother and father who work hard and feed their family with food sufficient for each day. They go about sweeping, sewing, mending and patching, etching out life. They scurry here and there, rushing this one, readjusting that one, forgetting another. In this village or town far away from here there are the higher ups and those low on socially carved totem poles. Somewhere in the middle, growing up with sisters but no brothers is a little girl named Iesha.
I used my hands to work the oil pastel then added ink details. About 90% of this is a finger painting in oil pastels. Continue reading “Iesha – She who lives”