His Horizon

This is a picture about amazement — the wonder that runs underneath our whole existence. We have every reason to feel it: the world and life remain profound mysteries, full of questions that go unanswered.

A man's head, detached from his body, meets you directly. He gazes out from behind a black veil that reveals only half his face — haunting, and deliberately so. Below him, the body: massive, folded, knees drawn up, as physical and present as flesh can be against the black. Above them both burns a field of red — his horizon, the line his wonder is fixed on.

Look at the edge where the veil crosses his face. That line is the whole piece: the gap between what we can see and what we can't. So much of life stays hidden from us; we will never fully uncover or understand it — and yet we go on living, grounded in these very real, physical bodies. Half a face, half an answer.

Some viewers read his expression as awe. Some as grief just held back. Some as the calm of a man who has stopped demanding answers. All of these are right; the work holds them.

His Horizon is the third work in my Human 2021 cycle — each image pauses on what it means to exist: humanity surrounded by questions without answers, living and loving anyway. Its companion is Her Horizon; alongside them stand Gravity of the Unseen, Orbit of Presence, Each in Their Own Orbit and The Parts We Are.

Offset print, hand-painted with acrylic · 61 × 42 cm · 2021 · Limited edition of 10, signed · Certificate of authenticity · $400, shipping included · Shipped in a tube, requires framing

If his half-hidden gaze asked you something — write to me and tell me what. I answer personally.