The Face Of My Soul: Born Within The Eyes

At first glance, there are two figures. Two wounded forms rising from the red of the canvas, facing each other or perhaps one is the fracture of the other. Step closer, and the eyes begin to speak. Inside them, another story unfolds. Three layers of being. Three cracks in truth. At the deepest zoom, where you are no longer a viewer but a witness, there is one person. Silent. Hands stained with paint. Painting. Not a victim. Not an observer. The creator of these figures, of the eyes, the scratches, the restless red. This work is not about two people. It is about one who repeated himself until he looked like many.