Fountain Pen Drawing 2014.11.11.
Whenever I lay my eyes on the Indonesian defendant, he is always working with his pens at his desk. Days after, his cellie stops me, taps the Indonesian man’s shoulder and hands the things to me. They are drawings, several of them. We don’t speak each other’s language but it doesn’t matter. I take out my sketchbook. He flips the pages, then we exchange our looks and smiles.
Art is our common language!
每次看到這位印尼籍被告，他總是伏案動筆，幾天後他同房叫住了我，然後拍拍他的肩，把他桌上的東西拿給我看，原來是一幅幅的畫，語言不通不過沒關係，我也拿出畫本，他翻了翻與我相視而笑⋯⋯
畫畫就是共通的語言呢！
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