Eternal Embrace
Eternal Embrace – 37.5x26 Inches – Oil on Linen – 2025
This painting is currently in my studio in Florence, Italy, and will not be able to get delivered until towards the end of June 2025. Feel free to message me if you have any questions!
I keep coming back to this question: what remains when everything else is stripped away? The ego, the body, even time itself—what’s left? Painting Eternal Embrace, I felt like I was reaching toward an answer.
This piece isn’t just about love—it’s about what love reveals. When the Self dissolves, what’s left isn’t a person but an awareness, a presence. That’s what I wanted to capture. Not love as attachment, but love as dissolution. As return. As something beyond identity, beyond even the body.
The figures aren’t merging so much as they are holding on—gripping, pressing into each other as if they are trying to anchor themselves against something vast and unknowable. There’s tenderness, but also a quiet desperation, a deep human need to be seen, to be felt, to not disappear completely. And yet, even in that embrace, there is a kind of fading. The world around them stretches endlessly, the sky swallowing everything in its vastness.
Above them, a meteor streaks through the night—a bright, fleeting moment against the infinite. It burns, it moves, and then it’s gone. But that doesn’t make it meaningless. If anything, it makes it more precious.
Maybe that’s what love is. Not something permanent, not something that exists outside of time, but something that matters because it doesn’t last. A presence in the in-between. A brief, luminous thing, just like us.
“The past is gone, the future is not here. Now I am free of both. Now what shall I live for?” — Rumi
Eternal Embrace – 37.5x26 Inches – Oil on Linen – 2025
This painting is currently in my studio in Florence, Italy, and will not be able to get delivered until towards the end of June 2025. Feel free to message me if you have any questions!
I keep coming back to this question: what remains when everything else is stripped away? The ego, the body, even time itself—what’s left? Painting Eternal Embrace, I felt like I was reaching toward an answer.
This piece isn’t just about love—it’s about what love reveals. When the Self dissolves, what’s left isn’t a person but an awareness, a presence. That’s what I wanted to capture. Not love as attachment, but love as dissolution. As return. As something beyond identity, beyond even the body.
The figures aren’t merging so much as they are holding on—gripping, pressing into each other as if they are trying to anchor themselves against something vast and unknowable. There’s tenderness, but also a quiet desperation, a deep human need to be seen, to be felt, to not disappear completely. And yet, even in that embrace, there is a kind of fading. The world around them stretches endlessly, the sky swallowing everything in its vastness.
Above them, a meteor streaks through the night—a bright, fleeting moment against the infinite. It burns, it moves, and then it’s gone. But that doesn’t make it meaningless. If anything, it makes it more precious.
Maybe that’s what love is. Not something permanent, not something that exists outside of time, but something that matters because it doesn’t last. A presence in the in-between. A brief, luminous thing, just like us.
“The past is gone, the future is not here. Now I am free of both. Now what shall I live for?” — Rumi
Eternal Embrace – 37.5x26 Inches – Oil on Linen – 2025
This painting is currently in my studio in Florence, Italy, and will not be able to get delivered until towards the end of June 2025. Feel free to message me if you have any questions!
I keep coming back to this question: what remains when everything else is stripped away? The ego, the body, even time itself—what’s left? Painting Eternal Embrace, I felt like I was reaching toward an answer.
This piece isn’t just about love—it’s about what love reveals. When the Self dissolves, what’s left isn’t a person but an awareness, a presence. That’s what I wanted to capture. Not love as attachment, but love as dissolution. As return. As something beyond identity, beyond even the body.
The figures aren’t merging so much as they are holding on—gripping, pressing into each other as if they are trying to anchor themselves against something vast and unknowable. There’s tenderness, but also a quiet desperation, a deep human need to be seen, to be felt, to not disappear completely. And yet, even in that embrace, there is a kind of fading. The world around them stretches endlessly, the sky swallowing everything in its vastness.
Above them, a meteor streaks through the night—a bright, fleeting moment against the infinite. It burns, it moves, and then it’s gone. But that doesn’t make it meaningless. If anything, it makes it more precious.
Maybe that’s what love is. Not something permanent, not something that exists outside of time, but something that matters because it doesn’t last. A presence in the in-between. A brief, luminous thing, just like us.
“The past is gone, the future is not here. Now I am free of both. Now what shall I live for?” — Rumi