2025
Oil, Flashe, ink and water on canvas (diptych)
76” x 121” / 192 cm x 308 cm
20 years of marriage has been a kind of labyrinth. Not mythic— a tangle of time, dense and fleeting all at once. I entered without knowing, thinking it was a path. At some point I realized it wasn’t.
And then it turns on itself. The years become a kind of weather. Love becomes less a feeling than a choice, made daily, without ceremony. The labyrinth doesn’t offer escape; it offers depth. With each turn you carry more of the other. There’s no map, only memory. The real intimacy is in that—getting lost together, and staying.
2025
Oil, Flashe, ink and water on canvas (diptych)
76” x 121” / 192 cm x 308 cm
20 years of marriage has been a kind of labyrinth. Not mythic— a tangle of time, dense and fleeting all at once. I entered without knowing, thinking it was a path. At some point I realized it wasn’t.
And then it turns on itself. The years become a kind of weather. Love becomes less a feeling than a choice, made daily, without ceremony. The labyrinth doesn’t offer escape; it offers depth. With each turn you carry more of the other. There’s no map, only memory. The real intimacy is in that—getting lost together, and staying.
