Loss and Pain
Dimensions: 76cm (w) x 102cm (h)
Mediums: Spray paint, acrylic paint, oil sticks on canvas
Description:
A boy was out skating when he felt a part of his soul leave his body—a deep, sinking feeling in his stomach. A call confirmed what his body already knew. Words told to him that home is where he must be. But some pain cannot be delivered over a phone.
Pulling up to ambulances everywhere, eyes already knowing, already mourning. A thought—am I even here? I feel that same ache in my stomach as I write this.
A lifeless, purple, bloated body now lays before me. Tears and pain from every direction. I’ll hold you close forever, my dear. What a moment to lose faith in the world. And yet, a part of me is relieved—you are no longer in pain.
I struggle to recount every detail. Watching you carried out in a black bag was a sight that burned itself into my mind. I remember saying, I don’t want to live here anymore. For years, I saw the place where you left your body behind. I know I was never the same.
I will always love you, my sister dear.
Dimensions: 76cm (w) x 102cm (h)
Mediums: Spray paint, acrylic paint, oil sticks on canvas
Description:
A boy was out skating when he felt a part of his soul leave his body—a deep, sinking feeling in his stomach. A call confirmed what his body already knew. Words told to him that home is where he must be. But some pain cannot be delivered over a phone.
Pulling up to ambulances everywhere, eyes already knowing, already mourning. A thought—am I even here? I feel that same ache in my stomach as I write this.
A lifeless, purple, bloated body now lays before me. Tears and pain from every direction. I’ll hold you close forever, my dear. What a moment to lose faith in the world. And yet, a part of me is relieved—you are no longer in pain.
I struggle to recount every detail. Watching you carried out in a black bag was a sight that burned itself into my mind. I remember saying, I don’t want to live here anymore. For years, I saw the place where you left your body behind. I know I was never the same.
I will always love you, my sister dear.
Dimensions: 76cm (w) x 102cm (h)
Mediums: Spray paint, acrylic paint, oil sticks on canvas
Description:
A boy was out skating when he felt a part of his soul leave his body—a deep, sinking feeling in his stomach. A call confirmed what his body already knew. Words told to him that home is where he must be. But some pain cannot be delivered over a phone.
Pulling up to ambulances everywhere, eyes already knowing, already mourning. A thought—am I even here? I feel that same ache in my stomach as I write this.
A lifeless, purple, bloated body now lays before me. Tears and pain from every direction. I’ll hold you close forever, my dear. What a moment to lose faith in the world. And yet, a part of me is relieved—you are no longer in pain.
I struggle to recount every detail. Watching you carried out in a black bag was a sight that burned itself into my mind. I remember saying, I don’t want to live here anymore. For years, I saw the place where you left your body behind. I know I was never the same.
I will always love you, my sister dear.