Boundless horizons: Empty Easel, Full Head

This piece came from a moment where nothing was coming. I was sitting there, facing an empty canvas, the sunset bleeding through the open windows like it was taunting me. Everything looked vibrant outside, alive. But inside? Stagnant. My hand held the cigarette more than it held a brush. I tried to draw, tried to feel something, but the inspiration just wouldn’t come. This isn’t just a self-portrait—it’s a snapshot of being stuck. Of wanting to create something meaningful, but only feeling the weight of the blank space. Sometimes the hardest part of being an artist isn’t the work itself—it’s waiting for that spark to return.