My Pugatory

 

Date: 04 April, 2024
Medium: Acrylic, Indian Ink, Oil Wash, Sculpting Medium on Canvas
Style: Traditional Paint Brush
Inspiration: Silent Hill & Shiho Takamura

Story Behind the Painting:

My Pugatory is a deeply emotional exploration of grief, isolation, and self-reflection, conceived during one of the darkest periods of my life. This piece is not only an emotional continuation of my earlier work, Scoff At The Devil, but also a personal reckoning with the aftermath of my grandmother Ann Trewick's passing. The pain of losing her, coupled with the weight of unresolved grief and the advice she gave me—“Stephen, live your life”—became the seed from which this painting grew. Her final wish to me, while painful to internalize, was the key that unlocked the image and symbolism for My Purgatory.

Symbolism in the Work:

1. The Central Figure (Myself in Purgatory):
   The central figure represents myself trapped in purgatory—an emotional limbo where I exist in a state of isolation and internal conflict. The gas mask is symbolic of self-imposed distance from the world and others, reflecting my inner desire to avoid confronting my grief, my pain, and even my identity. The mask acts as a shield, protecting me from the world but also from the life my grandmother urged me to live. It’s a rejection of shared experiences, an attempt to control my perception of the air I breathe, symbolizing the suffocation of grief and the alienation I felt after her passing. The line "I do not want to breathe the same air as you" is a manifestation of this emotional separation.
2. The Japanese-Style Community:
   The Japanese-style community in the background is a representation of my long-held desire to connect with Japanese culture—its serenity, artistic traditions, and way of life. However, this image also speaks to the realization that this dream may never fully manifest. The beauty of the community is tinged with an undercurrent of unattainability, a vision that remains just out of reach. It’s the longing for something that feels as though it can never truly be realized, mirroring the unfulfilled hopes and desires that often accompany grief.
3. The Red Veins Across the Building:
   The red veins stretching across the building serve as a metaphor for infection and destruction. Just as grief infects everything it touches, these veins represent the way emotional pain and sorrow seep into all aspects of life, constricting and destroying what was once stable. This symbolizes how grief can overshadow everything—joy, memory, hope—and transform them into something darker.
4. Tentacles Emerging from the Darkness (Leviathan):
   The tentacles in the painting are inspired by the biblical concept of Leviathan—a creature that represents an uncontrollable, destructive force. The tentacles emerging from the darkness reflect the overwhelming nature of my emotions and how they can engulf everything in their path. These appendages are not just a visual representation of grief, but also a commentary on how emotions can feel like an invasive, destructive force—an entity that consumes and diminishes everything it touches. They represent my inner turmoil, my struggle to control or contain the chaos within.
5. The Lamb (My Grandmother):
   The lamb or ghost-like figure represents my grandmother’s presence in my life. While she is no longer physically with me, her influence and guidance remain. She provided me with comfort and peace during her life, and even after her passing, I felt her protection. However, as time passes, her face begins to fade from my memory, leaving only a fleeting image of the warmth and love she once embodied. The lamb is the fading memory of her, a soft, ethereal figure, slipping further away as the days go by.
6. The Kanji "Overkill":
   The kanji characters that translate to "overkill" encapsulate the constant pressure I felt to exceed expectations, both from family and society, and the burden of feeling like I always had to push myself beyond limits. This word also speaks to my overexertion in everything I do, whether at work or in moments of rest. It reflects the feeling of never being able to pause, always going beyond what is necessary, and the exhaustion that comes with trying to meet impossible standards. It’s a manifestation of the self-imposed pressure and the emotional exhaustion that follows.
7. The Room with Candle and Green Frame:
   This particular room represents one of my happiest memories: my first arrival in Jamaica, a moment that marked a time of creative fulfillment and personal growth. Despite breaking my arm, I created two of my best animation pieces during that period, which was both cathartic and transformative. The candle in this room symbolizes the warmth and light my grandmother brought into my life, a reminder of her unconditional support during difficult times. Her kindness and guidance still offer me comfort, and the candle’s flame serves as a metaphor for the warmth she continues to provide, even in her absence.
8. The Flood:
   The flood in the painting holds dual meanings:
• First, it represents the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that consumed me after my grandmother’s death. The flood symbolizes how my dreams, ambitions, and inner world were washed away, leaving me to drown in my grief and despair. It’s a representation of being overwhelmed by sorrow to the point where nothing feels possible anymore.
• Second, the flood symbolizes the waves of music I played during my grandmother’s final moments. This music offered me a sense of peace and connection during a deeply emotional and turbulent time. The flood here is not only destructive but also carries an undercurrent of healing, as the music helped me find comfort and allowed me to connect with her in a way words could not.

Conclusion:

My Purgatory is a raw, emotional journey through grief, regret, and the struggle for personal redemption. It’s about confronting the depths of my emotional prison—the isolation I created, the desires I could never fully realize, and the overwhelming burden of expectations. However, beneath the surface of pain, there is the quiet reminder of living for myself, as my grandmother urged me to. This piece reflects my attempt to reconcile my feelings of loss with the need to move forward and honor her final wish. It’s a complex and layered exploration of the tension between facing the past and embracing the future. Ultimately, it serves as a catharsis for the emotional prison I had built around myself.