“When I make a sale I have a little cry. You are not here to share my joy. When I have a creative block, I have a little cry. You are not here to give me guidance. When I hear a tango, I have a little cry. You’re not here to dance it with me.
Some say only the naive and deluded can talk to the dead. But like Whitman asserts with certainty that he will be with his unborn readers, so too I am sure you are with me in those moments. You fill me with life.”
In memory of his sister, Maria Whalley, Yorgos made this portrait of her after a photograph taken by Costas Constantinou at one of his exhibitions. It’s 70 x 70 cm and is made with fluorescent pigments because she was a guiding light, not just to him but to many. In the silicone used to laminate the glass he mixed some of Maria’s ashes. It makes this work more special than anything he has ever created. The work is published today because it is her birthday. She would have turned 52. The poem by David Harkins was read at the cremation by her dear friend Tami St. George Hedley. The title of the work is a quote from a poem by Pablo Neruda.