MEDIUM: Acrylic on canvas

Trying to make sense of life is a disservice to the idea of life itself. To explain what happens, when it does, and why it does is a child’s sentiment. Pandemics burn pyres far and numerous. Ideas burn more corpses. Life is a process of making sense of life itself. Once done, there is nothing to strive for, nothing to solve, nothing to find. Like seeking a skull in a corpseless pyre.