Impulsive drawings and an imperfect treatment towards my memory of putting my dog, Beau, down. Beau was a salvage from a meat market and lived for three years. Having lived and starved in a cage for so long, in his end he could not walk, eat or defecate on his own.
Drawing has allowed me to take my experiences, something noncommunicable and incomprehensible, and process what he meant to me. And what tragedy can be, even in its smallest and most helpless forms.
