Dissolute

In Dissolute, the moon appears not as a celestial constant but as a fragment in retreat—its form broken, bleeding, and vanishing into a dense, bruised sky. This is no romantic moon, no beacon of guidance. It is a relic of certainty undone—a symbol of longing losing shape.

This painting began as an inquiry into the failure of light, and became instead a portrait of emotional entropy. The horizon cuts through like an old scar, holding just enough structure to recall stability, but it is the red crescent—the dissolved moon—that holds the eye and the ache. It drips downward like something melting through memory, refusing to hold itself together.

The choice of red—so unlike the cool lunar archetype—is deliberate: it burns, bruises, and bleeds. It evokes a sense of betrayal by the very idea of permanence. The moon, once a figure of repetition and rhythm, here becomes volatile, wounded, and deeply human.

Dissolute/ Alcohol ink on paper/ 15 x 11 cm