“Sunday 11:50 PM (The Stonewall)” 30 × 40 inches, Oil on canvas
This is a handmade, original work of art NOT A PRINT and NOT AI GENERATED
FREE SHIPPING Shipping takes 3–4 Weeks This ships from San Carlos, California (The San Francisco Bay Area). I use UPS and sometimes US Post.
It's almost midnight again for queer men. I fear that social progress is reversible. When I made this painting, I was thinking about how the present can feel haunted by the years before Stonewall, when visibility carried greater risk.
The figure on the left is me. My hand is close to my mouth, and my body leans toward the narrow dark strip that divides the picture. The other man faces toward me from the opposite side. We occupy the same painting, but the vertical between us interrupts the space. For me, it becomes a fault line between past and present, recognition and concealment.
The palette stays close to gray, but there are warmer pinks and browns in my figure and cooler grays in the man on the right. Broad, visible brushstrokes build the bodies. The pale wall on the left is open and loosely worked, while the door panels on the right provide a more definite structure. The dark central strip is also a physical passage of paint, with a thicker, rougher surface than the surrounding light areas.
This is part of “Self Directed,” where I use self-portraiture to explore more than my individual appearance. Here, my aging body belongs to a particular time and social world. The title places the scene close to midnight, and that approaching hour is part of the painting's uneasiness. I'm thinking about how securely we can inhabit our lives, and how much of ourselves we feel able to show.
“Sunday 11:50 PM (The Stonewall)” 30 × 40 inches, Oil on canvas
This is a handmade, original work of art NOT A PRINT and NOT AI GENERATED
FREE SHIPPING Shipping takes 3–4 Weeks This ships from San Carlos, California (The San Francisco Bay Area). I use UPS and sometimes US Post.
It's almost midnight again for queer men. I fear that social progress is reversible. When I made this painting, I was thinking about how the present can feel haunted by the years before Stonewall, when visibility carried greater risk.
The figure on the left is me. My hand is close to my mouth, and my body leans toward the narrow dark strip that divides the picture. The other man faces toward me from the opposite side. We occupy the same painting, but the vertical between us interrupts the space. For me, it becomes a fault line between past and present, recognition and concealment.
The palette stays close to gray, but there are warmer pinks and browns in my figure and cooler grays in the man on the right. Broad, visible brushstrokes build the bodies. The pale wall on the left is open and loosely worked, while the door panels on the right provide a more definite structure. The dark central strip is also a physical passage of paint, with a thicker, rougher surface than the surrounding light areas.
This is part of “Self Directed,” where I use self-portraiture to explore more than my individual appearance. Here, my aging body belongs to a particular time and social world. The title places the scene close to midnight, and that approaching hour is part of the painting's uneasiness. I'm thinking about how securely we can inhabit our lives, and how much of ourselves we feel able to show.
