The Past Hangs Still
12" x 12", Oil and Canvas
He sat alone at the edge of a jagged cliff, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the clouds billowed into an endless, open sky. Behind him, a gnarled, leafless tree stood defiantly against the rock, its branches twisted and worn by time. From one of its limbs hung a tire swing, swaying gently in the wind—a quiet remnant of something once vibrant and alive. The man didn’t turn to look at it, though its presence tugged at him, heavy with memories of laughter and simpler days. The sky ahead seemed boundless, full of light and possibility, yet unreachable in its perfection. He lingered between the two worlds, perched on the edge of what was and what could be, caught in the bittersweet pull of nostalgia and the vast promise of the future.