Wrong Room

Drawn on 08/10/'06. Sketch: [link]

First off, I didn't stick to the main idea. I expanded it as time changes.
This is him (the frowning clown), in the forest of 'bills' and money, and rich and prosperity. Half way out, into the light. Juggling balls of light. In this open field, his hand with the 'stylish' smoke lays; which refers to the conservativity of people. Be fucking progressive. The rest of the splash remained as I wrote on the 13th of June.

The clouds were pretty hard, as well as the cold forest/warm outside feel. However, I managed to finish this on 1 long evening.

This is what the splash starter was from my Journal ([link]):
Wrong Room:
<sub>The head of a clown, evolving into a mushroom. Mushrooms are spread all over his head. Sad make-up. Although he has this happy little smile on his face. He's diseased. But he can handle it. Doesn't matter what kind of disease; mental, or physical. Mushroom, wrong room. As his hand reaches out and pulls the skin beneath his eye down.
Symbolics behind clown:A clown is a reflection of every human being. As well in dreams as in real life. He makes people laugh, though his make-up tells otherwise. He wears this mask. Nobody is able to see what's really inside. It depends on the person you are how thick this mask is. And what colour it has.
Symbolics behind mushroom: They feed themselves. They may look like parasites, but in fact, they do good. They eliminate all that can not be eleminated without them.
This entire piece will be one paradox. It's a clown. Not a wrong room.

Considered June 13, 2006</sub>
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_{And today, as coincidence strikes again *SorenGama dropped a quote on my main page: [link] , while he did not know at all what the ** I would be (Painting it)/was(Drawing it, yesterday) working on.}

Quotes as source:
*The Italian metal band Novembre:
_{"Tonight moonwater drops are falling / as I'm sheltered here just like Pierrot..."}

*Placebo
"Leave me dreaming on the bed. See you right back here tomorrow, for the next round. Keep this scene inside your head as the bruises turn to yellow and the swelling goes down. If you're ever around, in the city or the suburbs of this town, be sure to come around. I'll be wallowing in sorrow, wearing a frown, like Pierrot the Clown."