The final piece in the Sapphic Series was conceived more than a year ago and attempted three or four times before this one — but it never felt right. It simply wasn’t ready until Christine finished it in April of 2026.
It is the most vulnerable and honest work in the series, which made it the hardest to bring to
canvas. Spare and seemingly simple, with only a few elements, it holds some of the most profound discoveries: of self, of true connection, of vulnerability, and of safety.
Here the two “S”s are linked in an intricate way, mirroring how two people can find a connection
greater than themselves. That kind of bond asks for self-trust, trust in one another, sensitivity,
and a willingness to be vulnerable. Nothing is plainly black and white. Old learned behaviors and inherited expectations of intimacy had to be rewritten; the nagging doubts of the mind — around self-image, self-acceptance, and control — had to be quieted in both people before a true and profound connection, a real synergy, could take shape.
The chain of “S”s rests at the center of the canvas, atop a tarnished white and patched-up black ground that frays into grey above two emoji faces, their expressions hidden. The links run in bold, bright colors that seem to flow through one another as one. Where one “S” ends and the other begins is impossible to tell — the two have melded into something larger than themselves: a shared energy, ever-changing.
Item details
GTIN: 248110
Price
$360.00
Sales method
Online & onsite sale
Quantity available
1
Dimensions
Product
Length/Depth: 0.5 in
Width: 20 in
Height: 16 in
Package
Length/Depth: 1 in
Width: 21 in
Height: 17 in
Shipping
Free
Refund & return policy
No refund or returns allowed on this purchase.
Exceptions may apply. Please message for more information.
Meet your seller
I paint the things that live under the surface — the anxious mind, the divided self, the weight of expectations I was handed and have spent years learning to put down.
I work in acrylic, often with a palette knife, in colors loud enough to match the feeling. I'm less interested in what a face or a body looks like than in what it feels like to live inside one. The thick, restless strokes are the point; they carry the emotion the likeness can't.
For twenty years I was an educator, primarily as a band director. I spent that time making and teaching music, and quietly setting my own visual art aside for what others needed from me.
Coming out as queer in 2023 changed that. My recent work reclaims a voice I'd kept small — exploring queer intimacy and joy with humor and honesty, holding laughter and grief in the same frame, and turning grief and outrage into something defiant. Some pieces sit with faith and survival; some are just a tired cat and a cup of coffee. All of them are me, finally refusing to stay contained.
If my work says one thing, I want it to be this: you are seen, you are loved, and you are celebrated for being exactly who you are.
We are 100% family owned and operated. My wife manages the website and I create works of art that examine the anxious mind, the divided self, the weight of undoing learned expectations, and the reclaiming of a voice silenced. Through my art, I want to let the world know: you are seen, you are loved, and you are celebrated for being exactly who you are.