For as long as I’ve been painting, eyes have followed me — not as simple features, but as presences. They emerge uninvited, bloom within petals, float inside darkness, multiply like thoughts that refuse silence. In my original paintings, the eye has become more than anatomy. It is emotion embodied. It is awareness made visible.
The Eye as Portal
Every eye I paint feels like a doorway. It looks outward, but also inward — a threshold between perception and introspection. The ancient belief that eyes mirror the soul has always resonated with me, though in my work it expands: eyes don’t just reflect emotion, they contain it. They are vessels for feeling, symbols of consciousness itself.
In my surreal compositions, eyes emerge not where they “should” be, but where perception happens — inside flowers, within chromed reflections, scattered across abstract surfaces. They remind me that vision is not limited to the physical act of seeing; it’s the deeper awareness that lingers even when the world blurs.
Painting as Seeing
To paint is, in a sense, to see twice. First with the body, then with the mind. The process of creating original artwork is for me an exercise in layered vision — perceiving what exists, then translating what cannot be seen. The eye as a recurring motif becomes both tool and metaphor: the painter’s own organ of transformation.
When I trace an outline of an iris, I’m not reproducing reality. I’m building a system of emotional mirrors — an image that watches the viewer back. Many of my works aim to dissolve the hierarchy between observer and observed; the gaze moves both ways.
The Symbolic Legacy of the Eye
The fascination with eyes is ancient and nearly universal. Egyptian amulets, Byzantine icons, and Slavic folk charms all used the eye as a protective symbol — a guardian that sees danger before it arrives. In pagan and esoteric traditions, it also signified enlightenment, the awakening of inner sight.
My own attraction to the eye stems from this tension: protection and exposure, control and surrender. The painted eye never blinks; it is vigilance personified. Yet it’s also a confession — a way of saying, “I see you, and I am seen.”
Chrome, Light, and Reflection
In many of my original mixed-media paintings, I use metallic pigments — chrome silver, iridescent layers, and reflective textures. These choices are not only aesthetic; they are conceptual. Chrome surfaces reflect the viewer, forcing them into the composition. You become the gaze that completes the work.
This reflective quality transforms the act of looking into participation. The artwork doesn’t end with the paint — it continues with the viewer’s presence, their shadow, their movement across the room.
The Emotional Dimension of Vision
Eyes hold not only meaning but mood. In my paintings, they often appear sad, overwhelmed, or serene, depending on the emotional landscape I’m exploring. Sometimes they weep metallic tears; other times they remain suspended, open but unfeeling, like witnesses numbed by beauty.
The repetition of the eye becomes a kind of visual mantra — a reminder that perception is an emotional act. To see deeply is to be vulnerable.
Why Vision Remains My Central Theme
For me, painting is not about replicating what I see — it’s about questioning how seeing happens. Eyes are the architecture of awareness, the spiritual mechanics of empathy and control. They symbolize both distance and connection, the fragile boundary between observer and observed.
When I paint eyes, I am also painting consciousness — my own and that of whoever chooses to look. The gaze, in art, becomes an act of communion.
The eye in my original paintings is not decoration; it is a living symbol. It watches, it remembers, it reveals.
And perhaps, in every one I paint, there is a fragment of my own — the unblinking part that keeps searching for truth in color, texture, and form.
