Reus zittend onder een boom uitkijkend over een landschap met bomen en huizen c. 1936 - 1940

Henk Henriët drew this sketch of a giant sitting under a tree overlooking a landscape with trees and houses, but when? I don't know. The artist seems to be figuring it all out as he goes, the lines are tentative, searching... I can almost see Henriët leaning over the paper, squinting, head cocked to one side, trying to nail the contours of the giant's belly. You know? It's like he's wrestling with this image, letting it emerge bit by bit. I wonder what he was thinking when he made this? Was he feeling small and insignificant, like a tiny human looking up at a towering figure? Or maybe he was identifying with the giant, imagining what it would be like to be so big and powerful? The whole scene is rendered in delicate pencil lines, scratchy and light. These lines give the image a kind of ethereal quality, as if it were a dream or a memory. For me, drawings are like little whispers from the past, these types of intimate records of an artist's process. It makes me think about other artists who have explored the figure and imagination, like Goya or Redon. We are all just bouncing off one another, aren't we?