Everything that gives me goosebumps turns into Vanilla Skies, a soft horizon where sensation and memory blur into a single luminous color.
In those transformed skies, past and future mix into the immediacy of sensation, and the self is both whole and newly porous. Goosebumps are no longer warnings but signposts, each one signaling a point of convergence with beauty and possibility. To live there is to be perpetually on the brink of discovery, to find that love — begun with one kiss — is less a destination than an endless horizon that keeps unfolding into softer, stranger, truer light.
Size: 12×12
Oil on canvas finish with epoxy.
Everything that gives me goosebumps turns into Vanilla Skies, a soft horizon where sensation and memory blur into a single luminous color.
In those transformed skies, past and future mix into the immediacy of sensation, and the self is both whole and newly porous. Goosebumps are no longer warnings but signposts, each one signaling a point of convergence with beauty and possibility. To live there is to be perpetually on the brink of discovery, to find that love — begun with one kiss — is less a destination than an endless horizon that keeps unfolding into softer, stranger, truer light.
Size: 12×12
Oil on canvas finish with epoxy.
