Anchored
2025, oil on canvas, 16"x 20"
The ancient sentinel appears—a ship forged not of wood or steel, but of solid sandstone. It sails here, its prow cutting through waves of geologic time, and here it drops its final anchor. The wind and waves whisper secrets against its hull. This is not a vessel in a harbor, but a monument on a silent voyage. It is a testament to patience and permanence, a stone galleon, a quiet protector, an enduring witness to the passage of every storm and every dawn, and a reminder that the most steadfast journeys are those that never move at all.
The ancient sentinel appears—a ship forged not of wood or steel, but of solid sandstone. It sails here, its prow cutting through waves of geologic time, and here it drops its final anchor. The wind and waves whisper secrets against its hull. This is not a vessel in a harbor, but a monument on a silent voyage. It is a testament to patience and permanence, a stone galleon, a quiet protector, an enduring witness to the passage of every storm and every dawn, and a reminder that the most steadfast journeys are those that never move at all.