When I looked at it the next day it was dry. But it had changed. The red mouth had paled and had become smaller.
Now it was exactly Demian’s mouth. I now began to paint a new picture, namely, that of the bird on the crest.
I could not recollect any more what it really looked like, neither could I form a clear image of the whole,
as even if one stood directly in front of our door, the crest was scarcely recognizable, it was so old and had several times been painted over.
The bird stood or sat on something, perhaps on a flower, or on a basket or nest, or on a tree-top.
I did not bother about that, and began with the part I could picture clearly.
In answer to a confused prompting, I began straight away with strong colors; on my paper the head of the bird was golden yellow.
I continued my work at intervals, when I was in the mood for it, and after a few days the thing was completed.
Now it was a bird of prey, with a sharp, bold hawk’s head.
The lower half of the body was fixed in a dark terrestrial globe, out of which it was working to escape, as if out of a giant egg.
The background was sky-blue. The longer I gazed at the sheet, the more it seemed to me this was the colored crest which I had visualized in my dream.
It would not have been possible for me to have written a letter to Demian, even if I had known where to send it.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색