50 × 40cm. Original oil painting on gallery wrapped linen, ready to hang.
Idir Codladh agus Dúiseacht Between Sleep and Waking
There's a strange space between sleep and waking when you're not quite dreaming anymore, but the world hasn't fully come back into focus either.
Idir Codladh agus Dúiseacht sits in that moment. The fox rests with its eyes barely open, while the world around it remains loose and unresolved, more like fragments of colour and thought than a fully formed place. A single butterfly drifts through, there just long enough to be noticed.
For me, it's about those brief in-between moments we usually pass through without thinking, when the mind is quiet, reality feels a little softer, and you're somewhere between being here and somewhere else.
50 × 40cm. Original oil painting on gallery wrapped linen, ready to hang.
Idir Codladh agus Dúiseacht Between Sleep and Waking
There's a strange space between sleep and waking when you're not quite dreaming anymore, but the world hasn't fully come back into focus either.
Idir Codladh agus Dúiseacht sits in that moment. The fox rests with its eyes barely open, while the world around it remains loose and unresolved, more like fragments of colour and thought than a fully formed place. A single butterfly drifts through, there just long enough to be noticed.
For me, it's about those brief in-between moments we usually pass through without thinking, when the mind is quiet, reality feels a little softer, and you're somewhere between being here and somewhere else.