The Mask We Wear

It’s a strange dance we all know too well. You step out into the world, and the mask slides on effortlessly. Sometimes it’s a sharp angle, clean and defined, like the point of a green blade cutting through the air. Other times, it’s softer, less clear—like those moments between sleep and waking, where the edges blur and you wonder which part of you is real. The head burns with the weight of thoughts, red and heated, shifting between clarity and chaos. The body stays pink, grounded, but only on the surface. Beneath, everything flows—fingers twitch, the heart twists, and the bones remind you that even the masks have roots, anchoring you somewhere.

You wear the mask to survive, to connect, to blend in. But beneath it all, the lines blur, the shapes meld, and there’s a hidden song—of blue birds and deep spaces—waiting to be heard. This piece isn’t just about what’s shown; it’s about everything that stays tucked away, just under the skin, waiting for its moment. Because in the end, the masks we wear are only part of the story.

Inspired by Grace Jones

67x44 cm
Acrylic, Ink on canvas