Watercolor – 5,90 x 7,87 inch – Unique work

As I and my daughter spent two weeks holidays in Ireland with a couple of friends and their son, I particularly remember this ruin.

Not the place, even less its name, just this hugeness of greenery all around. Infact, the castle was built on a slight promontory and had a clear view miles around. It was a beautiful day, a tremendous sun. My daughter would run on the green lawn and cut flush as they know how to do it right there. We could sit on this green velvet. We met few visitors, all delighted by this ancestral mystery.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the life that was to flourish there. I could hear the sound of heels punctuating the ground, then horses neighing in the distance. Probably soldiers investing their garrison. Shouts, rants, mugs of beer clashing. Maybe one or two fights, here and there. And women too, with provocative necklines. Wandering hands that they had to endure for hours without ever complaining, otherwise … What would become of them?

A lord and his lady? Why not. Visiting to encourage their dedicated soldiers for a future battle ahead. They are so vulnerable. I could feel a lot of things there where certainly ghosts roam. It’s not always easy to leave this land without regrets and willingly. Sometimes the survivors keep you prisoners of their grief, their anger, their guilt.

I also saw children. Kids running, just like my daughter would run. They had fun with simple but sometimes dangerous games. Armed with knives and blades of all kinds, they imitated their elders in futile imaginary battles. They almost knew how to fight before even walking. It was a question of survival. At the time …

Suddenly, I saw my daughter who was moving dangerously away from the central point of the ruin and moreover distanced me more and more. I jumped up to join her. But the more I walked towards her, the further she went until she disappeared all at once. I was seriously worried when I felt a small hand on my shoulder. I turned abruptly and didn’t instantly recognize the child who, dressed incongruously …

“Mom, wake up! “.