Stone my shell,
Reclusive my existence,
Silence i dream.
As a child I wished to be a tree, where I could observe, listen to the thoughts of others, and enjoy the world, but where speaking wasn’t an obligation. Sometimes speaking feels like lifting a 200lb weight. My mouth tends to feel sealed, as though when thinking, I’m speaking. And when speaking, it can be too difficult to think. It is easiest to express words through the tenderness of creating.
This painting was inspired by a holy fig tree outside my house. The fruit is organ appearing. It tends to have a breathing and live appearance. One half of the fig is exposed and feeble to its surroundings. The other, like a rock, lays solid and sheltered.