


I finished this quite a while ago and have been meaning to post a picture of it. It's a painting I did called Cancer.
The concept began with the idea of actual cancer represented abstractly. The background is a sickly shade of green, covered with bloody hand prints that represent operating tables and the feeling of desperation in trying to save someone. The black hand prints represent the various losses and pains of such a horrific process, and, ultimately, hopelessness and death.
As I painted on, it really stopped being about actual disease and became something totally different. The woman with this "cancer", an abysmal hole behind her ribs, sort of started turning into this living moving character inside my head.
Everyone has this void, I think. You know, and some of us might deny it or be honestly convinced it's not there. Sometimes it might go away, but it might always come back. It's always kinda there. It's the questions. Do you acknowledge it? Do you feed it? Do you spend your life trying to chase it away?
It ultimately became a reflection of that endless void that we would all like to ignore.
The void IS the cancer.