I See Stars
1 of 1. 3 feet wide, 4 feet tall. Oil on canvas painting.
Those star-filled eyes aren’t just aesthetic, they’re a record. They’ve seen too much too young, and still haven’t looked away. The stars might be dreams, or distractions. They might be delusions, or clarity after a breakdown. The ambiguity is part of the point.
She’s carrying stories that no longer have people attached to them. She knew them when they were still laughing, still whole. Friends, family members. Now they live in the ache between brushstrokes. In the thick, unsaid weight of remembering.
Her face is close because the subject is close. Saturated with loss, with survival, with whatever’s left. She doesn’t look away because someone has to remember.
1 of 1. 3 feet wide, 4 feet tall. Oil on canvas painting.
Those star-filled eyes aren’t just aesthetic, they’re a record. They’ve seen too much too young, and still haven’t looked away. The stars might be dreams, or distractions. They might be delusions, or clarity after a breakdown. The ambiguity is part of the point.
She’s carrying stories that no longer have people attached to them. She knew them when they were still laughing, still whole. Friends, family members. Now they live in the ache between brushstrokes. In the thick, unsaid weight of remembering.
Her face is close because the subject is close. Saturated with loss, with survival, with whatever’s left. She doesn’t look away because someone has to remember.
1 of 1. 3 feet wide, 4 feet tall. Oil on canvas painting.
Those star-filled eyes aren’t just aesthetic, they’re a record. They’ve seen too much too young, and still haven’t looked away. The stars might be dreams, or distractions. They might be delusions, or clarity after a breakdown. The ambiguity is part of the point.
She’s carrying stories that no longer have people attached to them. She knew them when they were still laughing, still whole. Friends, family members. Now they live in the ache between brushstrokes. In the thick, unsaid weight of remembering.
Her face is close because the subject is close. Saturated with loss, with survival, with whatever’s left. She doesn’t look away because someone has to remember.