I think I’ve procrastinated making new posts because I knew I had to write a caption for this painting. How do I even begin? Florianópolis, a place I’ve never been. Yet, in a way, I’ve spent two weeks there. You told me you explored South America on your motorcycle. I explored the places you chose, zooming through Google Earth satellite images.

Executing this painting was almost rigid in its precision. How could I make a map of memories you’ve yet to tell me? (I should ask you.) I offered what I could, my bird’s eye view, a near one-to-one duplication of my source image (as closely as the Tangled Paper would allow). My favorite moment was dusting ridges of Lagoa da Conceição with 24 karat gold. The white-tipped yellows I saw were likely just imaging artifacts – sunlight bouncing off water through the lens of a hurtling space camera.

In this almost hypnotic state of painting-copying-painting, some subterranean part of me wandered. It wandered closer to you. Even if I can’t put words to my thoughts, the two weeks I spent inside your painting were two weeks you spent inside my mind. Then I placed the painting in your hands. Did you feel it? That I’d performed something like devotion?

It took you longer than I expected to hang the painting. Then it came off the wall. Maybe it wasn’t quite right, there. Maybe you didn’t have the right nail. I haven’t asked why. I’m not worried about it. I just like noticing my painting moving in that corner of your house. Just like I’ve liked noticing you moving in the corners of my heart.

Florianópolis
15 x 29 inches
Sold to a very special client 🧡