I have visited a magic place, a room in the very ancient wooden house, full of memories and remnants of it’s former owners. Many years ago I slept in there, in the incredible, old bed in the corner, and I wondered if the place is haunted. In the middle of the night I woke up on the classic ghostly whine iiiiaaaauuuu iiii… and once again: meouwiiiiaaay! There was such a pain and sentiment in this strange song, that I could not sleep any more. I still remember the cold, vivid, orange light of a lamp beaconing the impermeable darkness. What was straying so helplessly in there? I got the answer next morning. There lived an old lady in the neighbouring house. She had nobody with her but a dog. A dog has been roving all around, dangerous and untamed. Perhaps it has bitten someone, because a police came to her and asked for keeping it home. The old lady hasn’t manage or hasn’t understand the command and the dog had been shot. Now she was wandering by nights calling her gone friend with this shivering voice from another world.
The drawing is from memory and imagination, and when I visited the room I noticed it looks quite different. I will try to paint it once again.