Sasho Violetov - I Cant Draw Hands





€4 | ||
|---|---|---|
€3 | ||
€2 | ||
Catawiki Buyer Protection
Your payment’s safe with us until you receive your object.View details
Trustpilot 4.4 | 143539 reviews
Rated Excellent on Trustpilot.
Sasho Violetov presents I Cant Draw Hands, a 2026 original acrylic painting (40 × 40 cm) from Bulgaria in a contemporary style, signed by the artist and in excellent condition.
Description from the seller
I was born in Sofia, where I currently live and work. I hold a bachelor’s and master’s degree in mural painting from the National Academy of Arts in Sofia. I have participated in solo and group exhibitions, festivals, and biennials in Bulgaria and the United Kingdom. In 2022, I had the privilege of being a resident in the residency program at the Cité Internationale des Arts in Paris.
This work emerges from my encounter with Kurt Vonnegut’s short novel ”Deadeye Dick”, particularly one of the characters, the painter who unable to draw hands, placed every figure’s hands in their pockets. That small comic detail stayed with me, not just as an artistic limitation but as a gesture loaded with meaning. In my piece, the figures’s hands remain concealed, a posture that can be read as a quiet refusal—an unwillingness to reach out, to act, or to assume responsibility. The pockets become a space of retreat. By echoing the novel’s blend of humor and unease, the work suggests how the things we withdraw from view often speak more loudly than what we choose to show.
I was born in Sofia, where I currently live and work. I hold a bachelor’s and master’s degree in mural painting from the National Academy of Arts in Sofia. I have participated in solo and group exhibitions, festivals, and biennials in Bulgaria and the United Kingdom. In 2022, I had the privilege of being a resident in the residency program at the Cité Internationale des Arts in Paris.
This work emerges from my encounter with Kurt Vonnegut’s short novel ”Deadeye Dick”, particularly one of the characters, the painter who unable to draw hands, placed every figure’s hands in their pockets. That small comic detail stayed with me, not just as an artistic limitation but as a gesture loaded with meaning. In my piece, the figures’s hands remain concealed, a posture that can be read as a quiet refusal—an unwillingness to reach out, to act, or to assume responsibility. The pockets become a space of retreat. By echoing the novel’s blend of humor and unease, the work suggests how the things we withdraw from view often speak more loudly than what we choose to show.

