Unison

Unison (2050 × 1550 mm) started from a feeling I kept coming back to: that people can be completely separate, yet still move through life like they’re part of one shared current. We’re individuals, but we’re also constantly shaped by each other, by proximity, by touch, by the energy in a room. I wanted to paint that strange, honest kind of togetherness, not the perfect version.

The figures are seen from above, almost like I’m looking at a moment I’m not supposed to interrupt. They’re not portraits. They’re closer to memories, fragments, bodies as gestures. Some are clearer, some dissolve into the background. That’s intentional. Connection is never crisp. It’s always shifting, overlapping, fading in and out.

The sketch-like marks keep everything raw and immediate, like I’m trying to catch the movement before it disappears. The warm brown ground holds the whole scene like one shared atmosphere. And the darker vertical stroke in the center became a kind of spine for the painting, something that anchors the chaos. It can read like a boundary, a passage, or just weight, the thing that quietly keeps everything from falling apart.

For me, Unison is about being close without losing yourself. About how freedom and intimacy can exist at the same time. About the way love, dreams, fatigue, comfort, and longing can tangle together into one human rhythm.

Medium: acrylics, dry pastel, oil pastel.