There’s something about water that always pulls me inward, into a place that feels, truly feels, a place where there isn’t full control, where there are no clear boundaries, no sharp lines that explain what’s happening.
This painting began from a moment like that, where I felt I was standing at an edge, not an edge of falling, but an edge of entering. As if there was an emotional space in front of me that I didn’t fully know yet, and I could choose, to stay on the shore, or to step in.
The line that runs through the middle is not just a line, it’s that space between feeling and holding myself back, between stepping into the water and just touching it with my foot and pulling away. And it keeps shifting, it has no stability, just like emotion.
The blues in the painting are not just color, they are depth. They are places I don’t always have words for. Sometimes they are quiet, sometimes they are turbulent, and sometimes they simply exist without explanation.
And the drips that fall are like moments when something can no longer stay inside, and it begins to come out, not dramatically, but slowly, naturally, like water finding its own way.
The gold reflects a moment of truth, a moment where I understand something about myself through feeling.
This painting is here to remind us that we can enter depth without knowing exactly what we’ll find there, and that it’s okay, not as frightening as it may seem from the outside.
There is a movement here of consent, to get wet, to not know, to release control.
This painting is an invitation to stop standing at the edge, and to see what happens when you step in.
