This painting explores what it means for two people to meet one another in a moment of vulnerability. The skeletal figures are not meant to represent death, but truth: what remains when everything superficial is stripped away. They are two nervous systems, two histories, two beings meeting at the level beneath identity, protection, and performance.

 

One body lies open, softened by grief, exhaustion, or surrender. The other remains upright, not to dominate or rescue, but to witness. Together, they form a quiet geometry of support of the simple, radical act of staying when someone is falling apart.​

​

The fragmented blocks of color that drift between them resemble memories, emotions, and unfinished stories. These pieces do not arrive in neat lines; they come in shards, flashes, and distortions. Healing, like these blocks, is nonlinear and layered. We offer one another not solutions, but space for these fragments to be seen and held.

​

The red field surrounding them is the emotional atmosphere of being alive: love, rage, fear, longing, grief. It is intense, but it is also warm. It is the backdrop of every honest human encounter.

​

The neon intensity of the colors represents vitality or the electric aliveness that emerges when two people truly meet. These bright, almost glowing hues speak to the way human connection brings us into fuller color, even in the midst of pain. Healing is not muted or dull; it is charged, luminous, and alive. In this exchange, to be seen and to see another is what it means to be vibrant — to reenter the full spectrum of being human.​