2025
Oil, Flashe, ink and water on canvas (diptych)
76” x 121” / 192 cm x 308 cm
Twenty years of marriage is a kind of labyrinth. Not mythic—just long. You enter without knowing, thinking it’s a path. At some point you realize it isn’t. 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. You go further in, and with each step you carry more of the other. There’s no map, only memory. You learn to live inside it. 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
Twenty years of marriage is a kind of labyrinth. Not mythic—just long. You enter without knowing, thinking it’s a path. At some point you realize it isn’t. 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. You go further in, and with each step you carry more of the other. There’s no map, only memory. You learn to live inside it. The real intimacy is in that—getting lost together, and staying.
