Starry Night

I painted this from my window at four in the morning because I couldn't sleep. Again. The stars, of course, don't actually swirl like this in reality. But when you stare at them for three hours straight, sipping coffee that's essentially tar at this point, they start to move. Everyone asks about the village. It's not real - it's like three different places mashed together. That church? Dutch. Those hills? French. That cypress? I just liked it, honestly. It's essentially an architectural fanfiction. The color moves because everything moves. Atoms, planets, anything. We're all just flying through space on one rock. So I can just paint it that way. My therapist says this painting reveals a lot about my mental state. Well, no duh, doc. I painted it during a breakdown. If you want something understated, buy a photograph.