Ocean XV – What Remains Upright

A boat, or what is left of the idea of one. The sails are a single line, so thin they could be a memory. The sea has already begun to take them back.

Only the mast stands. Red, vertical, raw. A mast – or a cut through the picture. A wound that does not close. A seam that holds everything together. Gold runs through it. Not to hide the fracture. To honor it.

Below the waterline the red continues, broken, dissolving. What stands above has its root below. This water is not a landscape. It is where the unspoken sinks. Ink spreads into dark islands – clouds, shadows, or something looking back.

We live in a time of drifting. Ocean XV offers no harbor. It asks what keeps us upright when the shore is no longer in sight.

Silence in layers.

Original, signed. Mixed media on stretched canvas.