MY DISCOVERY OF GOZITAN ART

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I’ve had my eye on this exhibition for a few days already, I did not know anything about the artist or his work, but I thought that I had to start somewhere if I wanted to discover the art of the Gozotian people, and that I wanted.  So today I stepped inside the hall and immersed myself in the works of George Scicluna, an artist born right here in Victoria on Gozo.  His work did not immediately appeal to the eye, you had to look at it long to try and get what was going on in the artists mind, I struggled a bit with that, I did notice that all of the large paintings had a religious motive, but not in a devotional way, I thought that the artist was looking for answers in his mind, in a most torturous way, looking for answers about life, about belief, faith, fear, torture, redemption, humankind.  I could be totally wrong about all this.  But I strongly believe that true ‘Art’ is supposed to allow or encourage the observer to ‘feel’ something, or to ‘experience’ something, and that it did for me, this exhibition of paintings made me feel how mankind does run around with deep anguish about its existence, about the why and how.  I can relate to that very well.

That’s all, and that is good enough for me.

Later on I went to check out some more work of the same artist and found that he is also a sculptor, creating fine, sculptors in lime stone.  Nice.

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Some of the works in the exhibition, with the artist.

 

 

 

THE HOMELESS WOMAN

I dream of a world where old and homeless people are cherished and cared for by all those around them, and where those elderly people give of their wisdom to the younger generation, nourishing them too.
I am sure that humankind is capable of this without exception.

Then we won’t have to see these sad and homeless elderly walking the city’s streets, begging.

This, the woman with the sad face, she was not getting a good response to her begging – I wondered what her story was? How she ended up homeless, she could barely walk or stand on her legs. A taxi driver told me those begging in the street are the homeless. Suffering a sad and lonely existence.

I wish her warmth and sustenance over the cold winter nights, and all like her.