En las manos del escultor ciego (Mi rostro hierve) Drawing

Circa 2007. Piece from one of the most long-lasting and satisfactory series I've dealt with, inspired by the words from a poet that back then I was a little bit obsessed with, Antonio Gamoneda. Beyond the first verse (boils my visage in the hands of a blind sculptor), I don't believe my English fluent enough to dare to translate the poem, so I beg you pardon. In Spanish it reads like this: "Mi rostro hierve en las manos del escultor ciego. En la pureza de los patios inmóviles él piensa dulcemente en los suicidas; está creando la vejez: ayer y hoy son ya el mismo día en mi corazón".