Forgive me, father
September 2026
is a glimpse into the world of worship.
A colossal, dark, spider-limbed entity with a distended belly sprawls across a bleeding sky, planted into the earth like architecture. Below, small, exposed human figures climb a muddy slope, reaching desperately towards it and falling into submission. The sky splits into radiating, red bands, wound-like and flowing as an aura. The figure remains indifferent, enormous and absolutely accepted.
The work explores the relationship between power and submission, faith and indifference, asking why we are drawn to forces capable of overwhelming us, and how domination can coexist with fascination, dependence and reverence. Saturated, hard-edged oil paint gives the scene the flatness of an icon.
A colossal, dark, spider-limbed entity with a distended belly sprawls across a bleeding sky, planted into the earth like architecture. Below, small, exposed human figures climb a muddy slope, reaching desperately towards it and falling into submission. The sky splits into radiating, red bands, wound-like and flowing as an aura. The figure remains indifferent, enormous and absolutely accepted.
The work explores the relationship between power and submission, faith and indifference, asking why we are drawn to forces capable of overwhelming us, and how domination can coexist with fascination, dependence and reverence. Saturated, hard-edged oil paint gives the scene the flatness of an icon.