"Siddhartha's Awakening"
48" x 36"
Oil Stick on Canvas

Owned by private collector

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This canvas was well underway when I began reading “Siddhartha” by Hermann Hesse. The story gave words to the feeling I was trying to convey.

After a long life of seeking, Siddhartha found himself in great despair. He wandered to a river, with thoughts of drowning himself:

“Siddhartha reached the long river in the wood… He stopped at this river and stood hesitatingly on the bank. Fatigue and hunger had weakened him. Why should he go any further, where and for what purpose? There was no more purpose, there was nothing more than a deep, painful longing to shake off this whole confused dream, to spit out this stale wine, to make an end of this bitter, painful life.”

But,

“Then he had fallen asleep, and on awaking he looked at the world like a new man. Softly he said the word Om to himself, over which he had fallen asleep, and it seemed to him as if his whole sleep had been a long deep pronouncing of Om, thinking of Om, an immersion and penetration into Om, into the nameless, into the Divine.
What a wonderful sleep it had been! Never had a sleep so refreshed him, so renewed him, so rejuvenated him! Perhaps he had really died, perhaps he had been drowned and was reborn in another form. No, he recognized himself, he recognized his hands and feet, the place where he lay and the Self in his breast, Siddhartha, self-willed, individualistic. But this Siddhartha was somewhat changed, renewed. He had slept wonderfully. He was remarkably awake, happy and curious.”