“God is a circle whose center is everywhere and circumference nowhere.”
- VoltaireHappy-esque is a mixed media canvas that opens like a burst of unchecked daylight, all color and pattern rushing toward the eye at once. Forms curve and overlap in loose circular currents, as if every mark is convinced it sits at the center of the story. The surface feels crowded with energy, thoughts stacking on top of one another, each gesture pulling the next into motion. There is a strange clarity inside the swirl, a sense of purpose that borders on fever, echoing the diagnostic language of mania in bipolar patients: elevated mood, racing ideas, a restless need to reach outward. Bright passages lean toward delight, yet the accumulation hints at something more fragile, as if the canvas has forgotten how to slow down. Happy-esque holds that tension between euphoria and unraveling, where joy stretches beyond its frame and begins to fray at the edges, a circle that keeps expanding without ever finding a place to close.
“God is a circle whose center is everywhere and circumference nowhere.”
- VoltaireHappy-esque is a mixed media canvas that opens like a burst of unchecked daylight, all color and pattern rushing toward the eye at once. Forms curve and overlap in loose circular currents, as if every mark is convinced it sits at the center of the story. The surface feels crowded with energy, thoughts stacking on top of one another, each gesture pulling the next into motion. There is a strange clarity inside the swirl, a sense of purpose that borders on fever, echoing the diagnostic language of mania in bipolar patients: elevated mood, racing ideas, a restless need to reach outward. Bright passages lean toward delight, yet the accumulation hints at something more fragile, as if the canvas has forgotten how to slow down. Happy-esque holds that tension between euphoria and unraveling, where joy stretches beyond its frame and begins to fray at the edges, a circle that keeps expanding without ever finding a place to close.
