Before the Labyrinth, I was already painting what waits.
The faun holds time still while the nymph moves toward him
across the distance between two paintings.
They will never share the same frame.
In the Labyrinth, figures like this
were watching long before you arrived.
Some days, it feels less like drawing a map and more like listening to one.
The Labyrinth is too vast to reveal itself all at once.
So I work slowly.
Photo by Psyché Ophiuchus
IX
—
#labyrinth#fantasy
Before the Labyrinth, there was Diane.
Hunter and hunted. Neither mortal.
Condemned to replay the same scene forever.
A world where the cycle has no moral.
Only a rhythm.
Diane - 2013
Before the Labyrinth, I painted thresholds that smiled before closing.
The Morrigan
She invites. White birds. Purple silk like blood.
You walk toward the goddess, past the flowers.
Later, you notice the red at your feet.
A door identical to your dream
An exit that is a test
Fragments of the Labyrinth — Cartographer's note 7
I stopped mapping what I see.
I started mapping what recognizes you.
*(it knew your name before you arrived)*
#labyrinth#darkfantasy#worldbuilding#fantasyart#arg
Before the Labyrinth, there was Thanatos.
Graphite, gold leaf and hydrangea petals on Arches paper.
Looking back at this piece now,
I realize I was already circling the same threshold:
the moment when identity loosens,
when something crosses,
and the masks no longer hold.