Tuesday, January 20, 2026

Pathology of the Mind

Some paintings are planned. Others feel like they have been waiting for you.

Pathology of the Mind is one of the most personal pieces I have created, not only because of what it shows, but because of why it had to exist. This work was inspired by a neurologist’s tireless dedication and by the quiet courage of people living with neurological disorders. It is my way of honoring healthcare heroes and acknowledging the emotional weight carried by patients and caregivers.

Pathology of the Mind, acrylic on canvas, 30 x 60 inches, 2025
The idea behind the monoliths

In this piece, I built a landscape of towering monoliths. Each one stands for a condition that affects the mind and nervous system, including Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, dementia, schizophrenia, migraine, epilepsy and more.

Detail showing the surface texture and the mood of the piece.
I chose monoliths because they feel permanent. Heavy. Unavoidable. They reflect how these conditions can shape a person’s daily life, sometimes slowly, sometimes suddenly. Yet they also speak of endurance. A monolith does not move easily, but it remains. It persists. In many ways, that persistence mirrors the resilience I have witnessed in real life.

In progress. Building the scene layer by layer, balancing weight and space.
If you look closely, each form carries a distinct presence. Some feel like they are breaking apart. Some feel like they are shouting. Some feel silent and watchful. That variety matters to me because every story is different. Every diagnosis is different. Every family journey is different.

The figure at the center

At the center stands the neurologist. Steadfast. Compassionate. Present.

In progress. Returning to small areas repeatedly until the story feels honest.
I placed this figure in the middle on purpose. In my mind, the doctor represents more than one person. He represents the profession, the long hours, the emotional labor, the responsibility of carrying other people’s uncertainty. He also represents hope. Not the shallow kind, but the kind that shows up daily, does the work and chooses to care even when the outcome is not guaranteed.

 What my process revealed to me

This piece did not begin on canvas. It began with drawings. Some of the early sketches were years apart, and seeing them beside the finished work reminds me that ideas can mature quietly in the background while life keeps moving.

In the work in progress photos, you can see how the painting grew through stages. The forms became clearer, the atmosphere deepened and the story started to breathe. I worked the surface with patience. Layer by layer. Not rushing the values, not forcing the mood. The stones needed weight, the sky needed space and the entire scene needed to feel like it could hold emotion without explaining everything.

From concept sketch to final canvas. Some ideas mature quietly over time.

One detail I personally love is how the texture of the canvas stays present in parts of the painting. It makes the image feel lived in, not overly polished. Like memory. Like something you can almost touch, but cannot fully hold.

You will also notice that I returned to certain areas repeatedly. That is part of my practice when I paint narrative surrealism. I keep revisiting the same visual sentence until it sounds honest. The goal is not just to create an image, but to create a space where the viewer can pause and recognize something true.

 Why this matters to me now

As a full time artist based in Batanes, I live far from the city pace, but I do not feel far from human stories. In fact, the distance gives me room to listen. To observe. To reflect. My studio life is quiet, but the themes I carry are not small. They are deeply human, and they connect to the same questions we all face, what do we do with pain, what do we do with uncertainty and how do we keep loving people well.

This artwork is also part of my ongoing commitment to create pieces that hold meaning beyond aesthetics. I want the work to be visually strong, technically solid and emotionally sincere.

 For collectors and galleries

If you are a collector, curator, or gallery partner, I hope Pathology of the Mind reads as both a strong contemporary surreal narrative and a tribute rooted in real life. It is a piece that can stand in a collection as a conversation starter, not because it is loud, but because it carries weight.

I value works that remain relevant over time. This one speaks about health, memory, caregiving, and the unseen battles that families fight quietly. Those themes do not expire.

 Commission note

I also create commissioned works, especially for collectors who want a narrative piece with personal significance. If you have a story you want translated into a surreal visual language, you may send me a message with your preferred size, timeline and concept. I accept a limited number of commission requests at a time to protect the quality of each work.

 Closing

Thank you for spending time with this piece. If you are reading this as a fellow artist, a supporter, a collector, or simply someone who has been affected by neurological illness in any way, I hope this painting reminds you that resilience is real and compassion still matters.

If this work resonated with you, feel free to leave a comment, share your thoughts, or follow along for more studio process and new works.

May you be given strength for the things you carry today, and grace for the things you cannot control yet.

 

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