A tribute to him, 2026

About the Work

“This piece means more to me than I ever could have imagined when I started it. I don’t usually work on Saturdays. I was in my studio, but not creating. Then this particular piece came back into my mind, and I felt an urgency to finish it. Something strange had already happened the day before. I was sanding the board, preparing the surface, when an older workman walked by. He looked at my sandpaper, shook his head, and without a word went back to the building site. He returned and handed me a better one, rougher, stronger, more effective. A small, fatherly gesture. The kind my own dad would’ve made. I didn’t think much of it then, but now it feels like part of the story. So there I was on Saturday, suddenly working faster than I ever have, my hands moving almost on their own. I just knew I had to finish it, sign it, and let it exist in the world that day. I remember stepping back, showing it to my girlfriend, still holding the pen. Minutes later, my sister called: my father had passed away. Only afterward did I realise I’d unknowingly written the exact date and time of his death on the piece. I always mark my works with the numbers of when I finish them, but this time it became something sacred. What began as routine turned into an intuitive goodbye, a final offering, a conversation without words. Now this piece carries his memory, his presence. It’s more than wood, acrylic, and wax crayon. As I worked, without knowing why, I felt guided. As if he was already near me, standing quietly behind my shoulder, guiding my hand one last time. This artwork is dedicated to him, my father. Finishing it on the day he left this world feels like our final conversation, a moment where love and memory aligned without words. But I’m grateful for every memory, every lesson, every laugh, and every quiet moment we shared. This piece is my tribute to him, my way of saying thank you, I love you, and goodbye.”