30 × 25 × 4 cm (12 × 10 x 1.5 inches)
Acrylic on canvas.
Free shipping anywhere in the world.
I have been exploring what it might mean to experience being itself. Not just experiencing the world around us, but that strange and immediate feeling of actually being here, in this body, in this moment, and somehow knowing that this moment will pass. It feels so close. And fragile.
I have been thinking about Rilke and the way he writes about being alive, about mortality, and about our difficulty in understanding what it is that we are actually doing here. I like that his writing doesn't seem to need to solve these things. It leaves space for uncertainty, and perhaps that is where some of the meaning is. We are here, and then we aren't, and between those two things there is this enormous experience of being.
I was trying to explore that difference in scale. The closeness of a hand, the feeling of a body, the softness of sleep or rest, and then the almost incomprehensible scale of time and space and stars and everything that existed before us and will continue after us.
I have been thinking about this since visiting Sicily and seeing the frescoes in the churches, and how for centuries people have used the human figure to try and understand existence, death, faith and something beyond themselves. Small. Vast. Perhaps both at once.
30 × 25 × 4 cm (12 × 10 x 1.5 inches)
Acrylic on canvas.
Free shipping anywhere in the world.
I have been exploring what it might mean to experience being itself. Not just experiencing the world around us, but that strange and immediate feeling of actually being here, in this body, in this moment, and somehow knowing that this moment will pass. It feels so close. And fragile.
I have been thinking about Rilke and the way he writes about being alive, about mortality, and about our difficulty in understanding what it is that we are actually doing here. I like that his writing doesn't seem to need to solve these things. It leaves space for uncertainty, and perhaps that is where some of the meaning is. We are here, and then we aren't, and between those two things there is this enormous experience of being.
I was trying to explore that difference in scale. The closeness of a hand, the feeling of a body, the softness of sleep or rest, and then the almost incomprehensible scale of time and space and stars and everything that existed before us and will continue after us.
I have been thinking about this since visiting Sicily and seeing the frescoes in the churches, and how for centuries people have used the human figure to try and understand existence, death, faith and something beyond themselves. Small. Vast. Perhaps both at once.
