Harold was a man, an ordinary man. A man that doesn't stand out and often goes unnoticed as he passes us on the street. A man that slips through the cracks and could pass in the night without being missed.
I did notice Harold and he touched my heart and soul, and I hope I touched his as well. Harold died last year and is missed. He represents what anyone of us could be if lost to mental illness, economic struggle, or abuse.
As I thought about Harold, this image came to mind and the childrens' story of Harold and the Purple Crayon. The Harold I "knew" lost his purple crayon; his purpose, hopes and dreams long before he died. This painting is my homage to Harold and all the many Harolds who have experienced loss, but who can experience some hope through our noticing.
~C. Foster/Szugye