Sometimes I draw something and until the last second I don’t really know what it means and what it is and who it is and why I drew it. Even though I have consequently planned each and every element of this image with rough sketches. I think “What the hell is this? Why am I drawing this?”.
Sometimes I leave it on my desk for a day or two, then come back to it and know more about it: “Oh my God! That is a Nereid, a sea nymph protecting the sailors!” and I draw the last lines.
Sometimes I never discover what it is and why I painted it.
Sometimes I run over the pages of my favorite poetry books, hours and hours, trying to find my image in them, words that speak of my image. That is because I believe that finished images and finished words are like souls – if they search each other long enough, they find each other. Souls find souls, images find words, words find images that speak to each other directly, without embelishments and without misunderstandings. Sometimes I do find a soul sister for my image in my poetry books and the words give the image its sense back.
Sometimes I don’t find it. The image then remains lonely.
An image without words has for me kind of an open identity. Everybody can give it a name and a sense. Sometimes I like this, it enriches me. Sometimes I don’t want people to give names to my images. It would be like letting someone name and explain my feelings.
Do you prefer images with titles or “Untitled” images? Do you prefer finding your own interpretations for an image, or hearing from the artist what it means?