What do we hand over to our children when easy answers are no longer enough? A reflection on fatherhood and the origin of the artwork "Support."
The Weight of a Gaze
There is a fundamental difference between making decisions for oneself and having to make them for someone else. When I mess up on my own, I fix it; I take the consequences and move on. But when my son looks at me and asks what he should do, the ground shakes.
In that moment, the fear isn't about me failing—it’s about marking him forever.
We live in an era that pushes us to seek what feels good, what’s convenient, what’s immediate. But as parents, we know life isn't always kind. It brings loss, disappointment, and hard moments. Preparing a child for that reality isn't about giving them "nice" advice; it’s about handing them truths that won't break.
Answers vs. Principles
I’ve realized that when faced with the question "What do I tell him?", the real answer isn't a clever phrase. The right question is: What am I building my words upon?
In the studio, when I prepare a support with layers of gesso, marble dust, and fiber, I do it because I know that what goes on top—the art, the color, the story—needs something firm to hold onto. Life is the same. What we teach aren't static answers; they are principles.
Art as a Search Process
This reflection is what gave life to the first visual experiment in the Dependence series. At the 3:00 mark of my creative process (you can watch it in Episode 1 of my You Tube Channel), an image appeared: hands that hold, a support that doesn't depend on its own strength, but on something greater.
For my son to have something to hold onto, I must be guided by something firm myself. I cannot give what I do not have. I cannot teach steadfastness if I am building on sand.
Conclusion: The First Stroke
This blog, much like my YouTube channel, is a record of that search. I am not an expert giving lessons; I am an artist and a father sharing his experiments, both on the canvas and in life.
