THE NAME I LEARNED

Pen on Paper This drawing came from the idea that opposites don’t have to cancel each other to be understood. ‎I wanted to see if I could hold growth and decay, clarity and confusion, nourishment and burden in one body without letting one meaning collapse into the other. It felt chaotic — but in a quiet, almost beautiful way. ‎The mushrooms grow from the head as a reminder that thought feeds on what has already died, and also on what is about to be born. The flowers exist in two states — alive and spent — because nothing meaningful stays singular for long. ‎The hand rests on the fruit not to claim it, but to acknowledge its weight. Even sweetness has mass. Even nourishment asks something in return. ‎This piece isn’t about choosing between contradictions. ‎It’s about learning to carry them without losing form — or identity. ‎Honestly, that has been one of the hardest lessons of existing for me. This work came out of that struggle, and I see it as a resolved piece by someone learning restraint… and slowly learning his own name.