In "As if everything is fine", "I’ve never meant for everything to get that bad", and "Just living in your own tragedy", the brightness of the palette becomes almost spectral — a faint presence trying to slip out of the frame. The pale tones behave like a ghost of oneself, hovering at the edge of visibility, unsure whether to stay or dissolve. This lightness is not comfort but camouflage: a way of hiding in plain sight, of pretending clarity while the inner world quietly collapses.
The figures drift between gestures, never fully anchored, as if they fear the weight of their own outlines. They embody the struggle of holding a life together when it feels easier to fade than to ask for help, easier to retreat into silence than to hear advice that cannot reach the core of the problem. The unwanted situation presses in, yet the paintings resist drama; instead, they show the slow erosion of certainty, the quiet panic of becoming transparent to oneself.
Together, the works trace the fragile negotiation between wanting to be seen and wanting to disappear — a soft, trembling fight against vanishing.
