You Are Here; I Am Not
[Level 2: Mystical] The painting I can't finish for the same reason I can't finish dissolving
I got my first sabbatical assignment during sound bath—a painting. Two weeks. Don’t let the spark fade. I’d seen what happens when I wait too long.
So that Saturday I went to Michael’s to get what I could, ordered the rest of the supplies online, and got to work on the most ambitious painting I’d made since high school AP Art burned me out on it entirely.
The materials were specific. Musou Black—an ultra-black pigment that absorbs up to 99.4% of visible light—on a large square gallery canvas—36” x 36”. Four layers of black gesso, sanded between coats to create a smooth surface. Two layers of Musou. Then iridescent acrylics for everything surrounding the figure.
One substance that eats light. One that plays with it.
The image that came through: a human silhouette, floating amongst the cosmos. Me, meditating, as a Void.
The title arrived with it: You Are Here. I Am Not.
It’s finished. It’s also not.
The unfinished part isn’t technical. It’s the edges of the figure—and I can’t resolve them because I can’t answer what they’re supposed to show:
Do I leave the hard division—the self as defined boundary, a void that blocks rather than receives? This is how it feels on the hard days.
Do I soften the edges, showing dissolution in progress? This feels true to where I actually am. But it requires admitting I’m mid-process.
Do I fill the figure in entirely—let the self disappear into the cosmos? The most terrifying option. This also feels aspirational or intellectual at best, a lie at worst because I’m still here writing this.
The painting stays unfinished in exactly the way I am.
I’m hoping the dark retreat answers it. I’m going in not to find myself.
I’m going to lose myself.
Which of the three is true for you?
Bonus pics
