Edge of the Flicker Field
30 × 25 × 4 cm (12 × 10 x 1.5 inches)
Acrylic on canvas.
Layered in translucent acrylic glazes, the painting attempts to construct a quiet luminosity that blurs the boundaries between form and atmosphere. Light is not intended to be rendered but becomes the medium through which presence is negotiated. Through soft veils of color and diffused contours, the figures appear suspended—neither fully formed nor entirely dissolved—trying to allow the scene to unfold with a sense of impermanence. This method invites a meditative mode of looking, resisting clarity in favor of something more felt than known.
The ideas in the painting draw on Virginia Woolf’s concept of “moments of being”—instances where sensation eclipses narrative, and consciousness floods the visible world. Here, the figures function less as portraits and more as atmospheric presences. Their partial immersion in both water and light suggests a state of transition, as if they hover between memory and materiality. In this space, identity is not asserted but ambient, shaped by light and distance rather than line or detail.
Roland Barthes described the photograph as a site of “that-has-been”—a static image of what is lost. In contrast, this painting intends to offer a kind of suspension, a deferral of disappearance. The visual language suggests a desire to hold onto the ephemeral—not to define it, but to dwell within it. Light might become the condition of both presence and withdrawal, rendering the act of looking as one of quiet engagement with that which resists fixation. The result is not disorientation, but a felt sense of being somewhere in-between: shadow, light, reflection, memory.
30 × 25 × 4 cm (12 × 10 x 1.5 inches)
Acrylic on canvas.
Layered in translucent acrylic glazes, the painting attempts to construct a quiet luminosity that blurs the boundaries between form and atmosphere. Light is not intended to be rendered but becomes the medium through which presence is negotiated. Through soft veils of color and diffused contours, the figures appear suspended—neither fully formed nor entirely dissolved—trying to allow the scene to unfold with a sense of impermanence. This method invites a meditative mode of looking, resisting clarity in favor of something more felt than known.
The ideas in the painting draw on Virginia Woolf’s concept of “moments of being”—instances where sensation eclipses narrative, and consciousness floods the visible world. Here, the figures function less as portraits and more as atmospheric presences. Their partial immersion in both water and light suggests a state of transition, as if they hover between memory and materiality. In this space, identity is not asserted but ambient, shaped by light and distance rather than line or detail.
Roland Barthes described the photograph as a site of “that-has-been”—a static image of what is lost. In contrast, this painting intends to offer a kind of suspension, a deferral of disappearance. The visual language suggests a desire to hold onto the ephemeral—not to define it, but to dwell within it. Light might become the condition of both presence and withdrawal, rendering the act of looking as one of quiet engagement with that which resists fixation. The result is not disorientation, but a felt sense of being somewhere in-between: shadow, light, reflection, memory.
30 × 25 × 4 cm (12 × 10 x 1.5 inches)
Acrylic on canvas.
Layered in translucent acrylic glazes, the painting attempts to construct a quiet luminosity that blurs the boundaries between form and atmosphere. Light is not intended to be rendered but becomes the medium through which presence is negotiated. Through soft veils of color and diffused contours, the figures appear suspended—neither fully formed nor entirely dissolved—trying to allow the scene to unfold with a sense of impermanence. This method invites a meditative mode of looking, resisting clarity in favor of something more felt than known.
The ideas in the painting draw on Virginia Woolf’s concept of “moments of being”—instances where sensation eclipses narrative, and consciousness floods the visible world. Here, the figures function less as portraits and more as atmospheric presences. Their partial immersion in both water and light suggests a state of transition, as if they hover between memory and materiality. In this space, identity is not asserted but ambient, shaped by light and distance rather than line or detail.
Roland Barthes described the photograph as a site of “that-has-been”—a static image of what is lost. In contrast, this painting intends to offer a kind of suspension, a deferral of disappearance. The visual language suggests a desire to hold onto the ephemeral—not to define it, but to dwell within it. Light might become the condition of both presence and withdrawal, rendering the act of looking as one of quiet engagement with that which resists fixation. The result is not disorientation, but a felt sense of being somewhere in-between: shadow, light, reflection, memory.