something prompts me to write about them. to move, run away from the cuteness of things, of how my drawings may be looked upon. the cute doggy koko running around and i am chasing it. Something pushes me to talk about them, makes me also question how i drew and what i drew. The You tube video in a south asian country, being led to be slaughtered. The dog meat house, the tiny cages, spending their entire life in these cages, then thrown away into a pit. A dog in a video refusing to let go of the tilted cage till he is poked and thrown away.
You can’t watch these videos, but i try my best to see them, of the insane torture of these poor dogs, being given shock as they lie helplessly in their cages, torched, beaten and chopped up for a meal. A slight movement in the cage and you are electrocuted. The electrical stick being tapped on the heads. and then no movements in the cage. Time to unwrap the fur.
This triggers me to build a cage as i sit there to draw, questioning what this drawing can do, as i fill up the drawn cage of the often titled cute doggy koko that i draw into the cage. the tails, the paws, all trying to push their way out of the cage. They are witness to the slaughters of others in front of them. All of them with enough space to just move their head. And few moments to live.
A drawing reinforcing itself on a monday morning at a cafe, sketches where i can feel the metal cage around me, i am locked up inside and feeling that i need to do something beyond just drawing. As if the window outside the cafe has a different reality, where i can just step out and make a difference, hear a cry, save the dogs which are in need of help, but have no voice of their own.