There is a moment just before night fully settles, when the sky hasn’t decided what it wants to be yet. This painting lives there.

A quiet horizon splits the canvas, not cleanly, not kindly. Above it, the universe hangs heavy; planets bruised with pink and shadow, suspended in silence. They feel close enough to touch and impossibly far away at the same time. Like memories. Like people you loved once and still do, in a different way.

Below the line, the surface shimmers. Not calm. Not violent. Just moving. As if something happened here long ago and the water never forgot. Light bleeds into color. Color bleeds into absence. Nothing is still, but nothing is screaming either.

This piece is about distance. Emotional distance. Time. The space between who you were and who you had to become. It doesn’t explain itself. It waits. And if you stand with it long enough, it begins to tell you things you already knew but never said out loud.

Each texture, each mark, was made without correction. No going back. Because some things don’t allow for that.

This is not a painting meant to decorate a room.

It’s meant to sit with you.

Details

• Original, one-of-one spray paint artwork
• Medium-sized canvas
• Colors: black, white, pink, subtle iridescent blues and violets
• Sealed and ready to hang
• Signed on the back