Small Cyclades

These are not islands I tried to describe, but places I listened to, where light, space, and time asked for less. Amorgos comes to me as a vertical silence, where light clings to rock and then falls away, leaving only the feeling of height and air; I paint it slowly, letting space stretch upward, as if the island itself were listening, nothing asking to be filled — only held. Milos is softness shaped by time, its forms worn and rounded, as if light has been touching them for centuries; I follow those gentle changes, allowing color to thin and surfaces to blur, until what remains is not place, but the memory of touch. Sifnos speaks quietly through balance, where walls, paths, and light seem to agree without effort; when I paint it, I try not to disturb that agreement — only to trace it, an island that teaches restraint.

Editions 25 each size, Signed & Numbered