A Flame That Won’t Burn Out
This painting features my son, holding a candle with silent intensity. It’s a scene full of stillness, yet filled with tension. The light reflects on his face, gently illuminating him against the deep black background. That candle isn’t just light—it’s fire, memory, and promise.
When I painted In the Dark, I was thinking about Robert Frost’s poem Fire and Ice, which explores the two forces that could end the world: the slow burn of desire, or the cold sting of indifference. I’ve felt both. After losing my fiancée and daughter in a tragic car accident, I went through years where I thought my inner flame had gone out.
But this painting is my vow: I will never let that happen again.
The candle represents the fire I now carry forward—for my son, for the people I’ve lost, for the stories I still have to tell. The light we hold inside can flicker, can shrink, can almost disappear—but it can also be protected, fed, and shared.
In the Dark isn’t just about grief. It’s about hope. It’s about what it means to look into darkness and still choose to keep your light alive.
This piece is a reminder that we all carry a flame—and sometimes, that tiny flame is enough to shed light on the loneliness and despair of a world that grows cold.
