With Raised Hand (A main levée) 1967

Pierre Alechinsky made this print, "With Raised Hand," sometime in the mid-20th century using etching. The way Alechinsky has broken up the picture plane into these little windows reminds me of a comic strip, or even a patchwork quilt. You can almost feel the artist's hand at play here – the speed and sureness of the line, the splatters and blots of ink, the overall sense of spontaneity. I love the way he uses simple marks and gestures to suggest figures, faces, and objects. It's like he's tapped into some primal language of signs and symbols. Look at the central panel, the way that one block of solid dark ink makes me feel off balance. There's a kind of playful ambiguity that runs through the whole piece. The shapes and figures seem to morph and shift before your eyes, never quite settling into any fixed form. Reminds me of the work of Joan Miró, both artists letting their unconscious minds take the lead. It's a reminder that art isn't about answers, it's about possibilities.