In an age known for misinformation and scepticism, amidst viral events like the Poonam Pandey self-awareness program on cervical cancer, it falls upon those who dare to document reality to rekindle faith in the truth- written- shown- shared and reported the truth. While I may not justify the journalist tag, my column traverses a spectrum of subjects. It remains unpredictable- from advertising to art, death to rituals, and stories to discoveries. Today, I will not share the recovery of Jan Van Eyck’s elusive masterpiece or the revelation of Vincent Van Gogh’s missing “Sunflowers” that could capture the reader’s attention. Instead, it’s a personal narrative of rediscovery. It is about the Fisherwoman that went missing somewhere around 2014.
The Missing Fisherwoman
It is about a collage crafted in 2000 AD that somewhere went missing between the shuffle of life’s transitions—moves, shifts in stations, offices, and jobs. I had a scanned image of it, and no, there was no FIR for the missing piece, but many times, I sat alone and thought of the ‘Fisher Woman’ fate. Weeks turned into years, and the artwork remained an enigma until last week. Like so many artwork treasures have resurfaced and unearthed from the depths of French attics, it finally resurfaced. Perhaps there’s a peculiar magic to French homes that beckons lost art, and there is a way where there is a will.
Implications and Significance
The retrieval of my forgotten collage echoes beyond personal sentiment. It’s a testament to a celebration of caring and preserving artworks. The successful recovery serves as a beacon, assuring that missing art can find its way to the glory it may deserve, no matter how obscure.
It is a victory for the guardians of heritage well, almost. Reaffirmation and a commitment to protect our cultural legacy that is captured in these efforts. The return of such artworks as the ‘Fisher Woman’ gives hope, renewing our reverence for artistic attempts and reminding us of the importance of not losing hope.
The Fisher Woman Recharged Me
As for admirers of Salvador Dali, each recovered piece is a revelation, a chance to delve deeper into the mind of a surrealist maestro. Similarly, my rediscovered creation, though humble, maybe even amateurish, carries personal significance—an emblem of past creativity, now restored to its rightful place. A place of pride on the wall of a place called home- all because my friend, whom I presented in 2014 while emptying my office at Dainik Bhaskar, liked it and kept it, taking it with him on house shifting- jobs shifts- marriage and more. Thank you, Peter Suresh.
My “FisherWoman,” akin to Dali’s “Persistence of Memory,” may not command millions, but its return is priceless. It’s a testament to the enduring power of art and the joy found in its revival- looking at it- I see so much peace and feel recharged to try doing another collage- a masterpiece.
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