It’s dusk on the other side of the window pane, the lighting on the demolished top floor of this six-story building, is warm and scant. It is a cozy space, at four-thousand square feet and Art is everywhere

I wander from creation to creation until I see this child. Monotone black and gray, it stops me, I love the power of the quietness, dark and yet, void depression. This young asian child is looking at something to my left. This makes me want to follow his young eyes, they are pitch black, concentrated on what?

The artist uses the chiaroscuro technique, light out of darkness. Half of the face is focused but as you followed the gaze of his eyes, his chin and mouth seem to lose focus, as if, as you are leaving his eyes, you are also dismissing the boy for the lost hope of what is captured both of your attention.

It is beautiful, captivating, and rare to see such depth and in so few colors. I find I have trouble moving along, not because I don’t want to see more art, but because I don’t want to leave this child all alone.