Ugly Lisa

Pastel studies of Ugly Lisa.
When I went to Paris this past Spring, I missed my opportunity to see Mona Lisa in person. The Louvre closed an hour earlier than usual, and when I got there, they made no exceptions for me or anyone else. The entire day had been a series of disappointing failures; first, my camera broke at the Eiffel tower, then my wallet with my credit card, 100 Euros, and all my memory cards with photographs of my trip so far had vanished, and then I ran to the Louvre with great urgency only for them to close their doors on my face. I was devastated, then I remembered I was in Paris, so it didn't last as long as it would've if I was somewhere in America. The day turned around rather quickly, when my mother, as usual, came to the rescue, comforting me as her nature always does. She knew it wasn't close to the real thing, but she bought me a book with all the works inside the Louvre.  To me, it was just as good at the real thing.On the cover was an image of Mona Lisa. After that day, I couldn't stop seeing her. It was if she started to beckon to me. She was everywhere I turned: at the airport, in the market, at the hotel, on the bus, and so on and so on. Although I didn't see the REAL Mona Lisa, her face haunted me at every turn in Paris, then I went to Spain, and she was still there staring back at me following with her unsettling grin. Now, I'm back home, and her face still follows me. Isn't it said that her eyes follow you wherever you stand from the painting? Well, it's sort of like that except it's become mental for me now. I have yet to understand why the fixation, so I continue to draw her and draw her every chance I get. I don't know why, but I do.