Unnamed In-Progress Project

This painting is about what anxiety feels like when it starts to take on a life of its own. In the center is a horse’s head—tense, alert, almost on edge—surrounded by this mass of flowing hair that doesn’t really act like hair anymore. It moves more like something alive. The strands twist, reach, and react like they’re thinking for themselves.

Around it, birds circle and press inward, creating this constant sense of motion and pressure. They feel intrusive—like racing thoughts or outside noise that just won’t quiet down. The hair pushes back, tangling and fighting against them, trying to hold some kind of boundary. It’s not controlled or clean though—it’s messy and ongoing, like the feeling itself.

As the hair moves through the space, it starts to shift. It’s not just resisting anymore—it’s also carrying small, calming plants toward the birds. That part sits in this weird in-between space. It feels like both a defense and an offering at the same time, like the same thing that reacts to anxiety might also be trying to calm it.

The skull grounds everything with a quieter, heavier presence. It adds a sense of stillness and weight that contrasts with all the movement above it. Together, it all kind of loops—tension, reaction, and this attempt at relief all happening at once.

Overall, the painting isn’t about getting rid of anxiety. It’s more about what it feels like to exist inside it—the constant motion, the effort to manage it, and the complicated ways your mind tries to protect and soothe itself at the same time.