Source:Google.com.pk
Funny Pencil Drawings Biography
I was born in Lleida in the middle of the civil war and, although I don’t recall it anymore, I am sure that right after leaning out I thought “si lo sé no vengo” [if I’d known, I wouldn’t have come]. In case I carried a pencil in my hand, as it is said that artists use to be born, mine must have got lost in the midst of such mess, because my mother does not remember seeing me holding it until I was 3 or 4 – when I already began filling with scratches the back of the electricity bill, calendar leaves, rationing card, etc.
My father was a carpenter, and his artisan work fascinated me. My mother was a housewife in a rather big house with 6 family members and some relatives passing through. When I thought about starting to offer my help, as far as possible, to the common cause, I decided to give a hand to my father. Every day after school I went to the small workshop, and there I remained while he left to do some works in building sites and private residences; so I took whichever orders were placed during his absence, and I whiled away my time drawing with his carpenter’s pencil on the spare chunks of wood.
My family considered my fondness for drawing to be as useless as beautiful. My mother particularly liked it; she sometimes found a break between her multiple domestic tasks in order to sit down and draw with me. I remember her very delicate and personal style, which she still keeps. She would probably have achieved great perfection if it had not been swallowed by the pots and other household goods. That began to make me feel uneasy. I realised that, due to my condition as a woman, I really would have to watch out if I didn’t want them to change my pencil for a broom.
Quite naturally, there was in Lleida not much to choose from if I wanted to find my way. Only the train. The story of what it took me to convince my family that they allowed me to undertake the adventure of leaving home would deserve several independent volumes.
Fortunately I had a great-aunt in Barcelona and thanks to her intervention I was permitted to attempt my “launching”. To me – who did not even know the landscape of the other side of the railway station – that was similar to what must have been felt by the first astronauts.
Funny Pencil Drawings Biography
I was born in Lleida in the middle of the civil war and, although I don’t recall it anymore, I am sure that right after leaning out I thought “si lo sé no vengo” [if I’d known, I wouldn’t have come]. In case I carried a pencil in my hand, as it is said that artists use to be born, mine must have got lost in the midst of such mess, because my mother does not remember seeing me holding it until I was 3 or 4 – when I already began filling with scratches the back of the electricity bill, calendar leaves, rationing card, etc.
My father was a carpenter, and his artisan work fascinated me. My mother was a housewife in a rather big house with 6 family members and some relatives passing through. When I thought about starting to offer my help, as far as possible, to the common cause, I decided to give a hand to my father. Every day after school I went to the small workshop, and there I remained while he left to do some works in building sites and private residences; so I took whichever orders were placed during his absence, and I whiled away my time drawing with his carpenter’s pencil on the spare chunks of wood.
My family considered my fondness for drawing to be as useless as beautiful. My mother particularly liked it; she sometimes found a break between her multiple domestic tasks in order to sit down and draw with me. I remember her very delicate and personal style, which she still keeps. She would probably have achieved great perfection if it had not been swallowed by the pots and other household goods. That began to make me feel uneasy. I realised that, due to my condition as a woman, I really would have to watch out if I didn’t want them to change my pencil for a broom.
Quite naturally, there was in Lleida not much to choose from if I wanted to find my way. Only the train. The story of what it took me to convince my family that they allowed me to undertake the adventure of leaving home would deserve several independent volumes.
Fortunately I had a great-aunt in Barcelona and thanks to her intervention I was permitted to attempt my “launching”. To me – who did not even know the landscape of the other side of the railway station – that was similar to what must have been felt by the first astronauts.
Funny Pencil Drawings
Funny Pencil Drawings
Funny Pencil Drawings
Funny Pencil Drawings
Funny Pencil Drawings
Funny Pencil Drawings
Funny Pencil Drawings
Funny Pencil Drawings
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