Eyeball Horse – An Intro
Periodically, Wick Monet hosts Shitty Art Nite’s. It is an event for artists to present works that were once serious in concept but lost their way in execution or in reflection. In our most recent Shitty Art Nite, we were introduced to Eye Horse, short for Eyeball Horse. This is their story:
In the quaint, frost-kissed neighborhood of Maple Whisper, Canada, where chimneys perpetually exhaled wisps of warmth, a peculiar being ambled through the alleys, its presence as quietly reassuring as the news of the community's recent initiative to embrace sustainable living. Eyeball Horse, with its enormous, vigilant eyeball for a head and a body bathed in the deepest shade of purple, was a sight that blended oddly well with the murals of resilience and unity that adorned the local buildings, a testament to the neighborhood's spirit in these trying times.
Eyeball Horse
Despite its striking appearance, Eyeball Horse's life was far from easy. The neighborhood, though tight-knit, had its rough edges and cold stares, ones that often lingered a second too long, much like the headlines of the world's unfolding stories that occasionally streamed through the local cafe's muted television.
But within that singular eye was a universe of thoughts, a whirlpool of reflections swirling in silent soliloquies. Eyeball Horse was not just a thinker but a dreamer, its inner world as rich and complex as the discussions about climate change and social justice that occasionally filled the air, its yearnings for connection and understanding mirroring the collective aspirations of a society striving for betterment.
One crisp evening, as the sky draped itself in the velvet of twilight, a subtle act of bravery unfolded. A lost kitten, its cries dissolving into the chill of the night, caught Eyeball Horse's gaze. The neighborhood watched, curious, as the creature with the all-seeing eye approached the trembling ball of fur. With a gentleness that belied its bizarre form, Eyeball Horse nudged the kitten into the warmth of a nearby doorstep, its eyelid softly closing and opening, as if in a quiet reassurance.
That night, something shifted in the whispers of Maple Whisper. Eyeball Horse, with its single, encompassing gaze, saw not just the kitten, but the intertwining threads of its community, realizing that even in a world that often didn't see eye to eye, there lay the possibility of connection, of shared moments of unspoken understanding, and of a future crafted with collective compassion and courage.
As Eyeball Horse retreated into the embrace of the shadows, its heart held a flicker of hope, a whisper of adventures yet to come, and the silent promise of a journey only just beginning.
