Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
In Culture in Decay, relics of modern myth and memory collapse into new constellations. Each work is both ruin and resurrection — a fragment of collective culture reassembled into sacred debris.
Relic of the Uterine Sky
Original Mixed Media on Panel — Plaster, Oil, Acrylic, Metallic Pigment, UV Varnish (3 coats)
20 × 20 inches
Relic of the Uterine Sky Sky lives in the liminal space between dissolution and deliverance. It is both elegy and invocation — a meditation on the idea that death is not an end, but the beginning of a new vibration. What disintegrates here is not life itself, but the illusion of permanence.
The work draws upon the mythology of Nirvana, not to mourn, but to transmute. Bones, butterflies, and celestial fragments orbit one another like remnants of a supernova — chaos reorganizing into higher order. What was once noise becomes resonance; what was once pain becomes passage. The anatomy of grief reorganizes itself into something winged, something ascending.
Within this painted relic, the sacred and the profane coexist: graffiti as scripture, decay as rebirth, distortion as divinity. The work whispers that transcendence does not arrive in serenity, but in the honest shattering of form. Through that rupture, a new light filters in — pale, uterine, and infinite.
In Culture in Decay, relics of modern myth and memory collapse into new constellations. Each work is both ruin and resurrection — a fragment of collective culture reassembled into sacred debris.
Relic of the Uterine Sky
Original Mixed Media on Panel — Plaster, Oil, Acrylic, Metallic Pigment, UV Varnish (3 coats)
20 × 20 inches
Relic of the Uterine Sky Sky lives in the liminal space between dissolution and deliverance. It is both elegy and invocation — a meditation on the idea that death is not an end, but the beginning of a new vibration. What disintegrates here is not life itself, but the illusion of permanence.
The work draws upon the mythology of Nirvana, not to mourn, but to transmute. Bones, butterflies, and celestial fragments orbit one another like remnants of a supernova — chaos reorganizing into higher order. What was once noise becomes resonance; what was once pain becomes passage. The anatomy of grief reorganizes itself into something winged, something ascending.
Within this painted relic, the sacred and the profane coexist: graffiti as scripture, decay as rebirth, distortion as divinity. The work whispers that transcendence does not arrive in serenity, but in the honest shattering of form. Through that rupture, a new light filters in — pale, uterine, and infinite.