Embracing the Unknown in Abstract Art

Mystery in Abstract Art

“Flukes” balck and white abstract art is 8’ x 10” original acrylic on unstretched canvas

The Everyday Puzzle of Literal Art. It seems so rare that I go even a single day without stumbling across a piece of art that insists on explaining everything in the plainest terms, which is absolutely mind-boggling. Mind-boggling because there’s a phenomenon claiming that the more straightforward the paint, the lower the “creative wonder.”

Why Abstraction Thrives on Suggestion.

Abstract art thrives on subtle hints and unspoken clues, the kind that makes you tilt your head and squint, wondering if you’re gazing at a cosmic horizon or the underside of a countertop . If I wanted everything spelled out, I’d read the back of a cereal box. This painting is a deep dive into texture and tone, where dark streaks slash across the canvas like they have a secret to keep. Some might see echoes of whale flukes or even cosmic debris. But that’s the beauty of abstraction. It makes you feel something without telling you exactly why. Every brushstroke is a little act of rebellion, forging a personal dialogue between the viewer and the painting. Available for purchase here.

Hidden Depths and Emotional Tension

“Flukes” balck and white abstract art is 8’ x 10” original acrylic on unstretched canvas

There’s something interesting about standing in front of a piece that’s unconventional, sensitive, and maybe a bit irritable. It’s like the painting itself is whispering, “Don’t try to label me. I’m busy exploring the boundaries of form.” With “Flukes,” I wanted to create a moment of emotional tension where suggestion triumphs over clarity. You might feel excitement, or maybe quiet reflection. Either way, the piece invites you to join in its mystery, rather than watch from the sidelines.

The Rebellious Spirit of Creation

As an artist, I can’t help but appreciate how abstraction reflects our own inner chaos. It’s the ultimate act of creative freedom, letting us tap into the raw emotional power of pure form. That’s what draws me back to the canvas every day, pushing me to break conventions. It’s not about painting a pristine still life or even a perfectly rendered sunset. It’s about capturing that intangible spark.

So the next time someone asks, “Why don’t you just paint a nice bowl of fruit?” I’ll probably say, “Because I’m too busy getting splattered by the unknown.” In the end, “Flukes” doesn’t just sit quietly on the wall; it resonates with the pulse of artistic rebellion, echoing a restless spirit on canvas. Let your own ideas of the painting fill in the blanks of your mind.