Inner Dialogue
Mixed media - timber, mdf, copper, carving.
Inner Dialogue
Nobody tells you about the third day. The first day you're an artist — confident, deliberate, chisel in hand like you know what the hell you're doing. The second day the doubt creeps in. But the third day? The third day the symbols start talking back and that's when you realize you're not making anything anymore. You're just the poor bastard holding the tool.
This thing started as a piece of MDF. Busted. Rejected. The kind of material that has no business becoming anything. And maybe that's exactly why it had to. You take something already broken and you carve it until your hands ache and your eyes go soft and the line between what you intended and what arrived becomes completely, beautifully meaningless.
Days. It took days. An unrelenting flood of symbols pouring through the mind's eye like transmissions from a civilization that burned itself down before anyone could write the dictionary. A masked god watching from the upper corner. A radiant eye detonating silently in the centre. Strange figures haunting the lower margins, going about their incomprehensible business, utterly indifferent to being watched.
This is a cave painting for a cave that doesn't exist yet. A document of a mind that went out to the edge, looked down, and instead of stepping back — started carving.
The symbols don't mean anything.
The symbols mean everything.
God help you if you can tell the difference.