Cracked tempera on canvas, smears of oil on wood.
Masters at work, put to work by their masters.
Centuries of pain and love stare back at me.
How does one paint the human experience?
Is it in the eyes?
So full of emotion, you feel as if they see right through you.
Is it in a still life that's anything but still?
Light bouncing off of metals, dancing on linen and pearls.
Is it in the scene itself?
Myth, grief, portrait, the resurrection of Christ.
Thin brush, single black stroke.
The mark of the hand that brought the scene to life.
It's in the reminder that art is being human.
May 19
May 19, 2026 at 5:41 AM UTC
Cracked tempera on canvas, smears of oil on wood.
Masters at work, put to work by their masters.
Centuries of pain and love stare back at me.
How does one paint the human experience?
Is it in the eyes?
So full of emotion, you feel as if they see right through you.
Is it in a still life that's anything but still?
Light bouncing off of metals, dancing on linen and pearls.
Is it in the scene itself?
Myth, grief, portrait, the resurrection of Christ.
Thin brush, single black stroke.
The mark of the hand that brought the scene to life.
It's in the reminder that art is being human.
