The Meeting in My Head
This looks like someone opened a human brain and found an art supply drawer having a nervous breakdown.
A loose brown contour gives us the head, while the interior turns into pure commotion: orange clouds, green slashes, bruised purples, frantic loops, half-finished thoughts and one very determined navy scribble trying to manage the meeting.
The energy feels close to Cy Twombly’s scrawled poetry, Jean-Michel Basquiat’s raw nervous line and Willem de Kooning’s habit of letting a figure emerge from the mess, disappear, then elbow its way back in. There’s also a little Arshile Gorky here, especially in those wandering organic marks that feel like memories trying to draw themselves.
This kind of work belongs to the family of gestural abstraction, where the mark records movement, pressure and mood. A line can hesitate. A scribble can panic. A thick stroke can barge into the room wearing expensive sunglasses.
FUN FACT
Twombly was often criticized for making paintings that looked like chalkboard scribbles. Those same scribbles now hang in major museums and sell for sums that could make your third-grade teacher faint.
