Untitled (but intentionally)
This piece feels darker, denser, and more gravitational — like it’s pulling you inward instead of bursting outward. There’s a heavy layering of green, black, and neon pink. It feels like the aftermath of something.
From a philosophical standpoint, this painting could be about weight — the weight of memory, time, or emotion. But it’s not seen through a bleak lens. It’s like the beauty you find after something hard has passed when things are quieter and raw but somehow richer. It feels like standing still and letting everything heavy settle around you and then realizing you’re still there.
There’s a physicality to this piece — the layering is thick, textured, and almost sculptural in some places like you could feel the weight with your hands. It feels like something ancient—like the surface has been repeatedly layered by invisible forces such as memories, seasons, emotions, or the passing of time. The painting doesn’t demand anything from the viewer. It asks them to sit with it patiently and promises that if they do, they’ll notice more: a small flicker of light, a shift in the colors, tiny movements buried deep inside the stillness.
An ode to endurance written in heavy colors.
What it feels like to stay when everything else moves on.
Built from all the feelings we buried and those we couldn’t.
This piece remains untitled. No name could fully contain what it became. It exists as its own entity, beyond the limits of language or words I could give it. Some works refuse to be named, and this is one of them — a living form meant to be felt, not labeled. Not everything that speaks needs a title.
This piece feels whole without explanation.
This piece is meant to be whatever you find in it—trust in what you feel.
You don’t need me to tell you what it is.
marysaysmeh 