May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire
This painting was inspired by John O’Donohue’s line, “May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire that disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.” I wanted this work to feel like a beckoning—like the moment just before you say yes to something brave and life-altering. The forms surge and gather, like a choir of prayers or petals in a storm. There’s something about the rhythm in this piece that feels like the heartbeat of a longing you’ve kept quiet too long.
I invite you to let this painting live with you as a companion to your courage. It's a reminder that desire isn’t dangerous—it’s divine. In my own Catholic imagination and African spiritual heritage, desire is sacred. It's how the Spirit stirs. I made this painting in the hope that it might stir you too.The fiery reds and golden saffron tones in this painting recall both the tongues of Pentecostal flame. Red has long been associated with divine power ad transformation, initiation, and passionate commitment. James Elkins writes that red in painting can represent both love and rupture, “a colour that never settles.” That refusal to settle echoes O'Donohue’s own themes.
As art historian Victoria Finlay notes, in many cultures yellow has been associated with divinity and sacred insight. The swirling forms, with their petal-like shapes, hint at the hidden gardens within us—the ones desire calls us to tend.
This painting was inspired by John O’Donohue’s line, “May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire that disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.” I wanted this work to feel like a beckoning—like the moment just before you say yes to something brave and life-altering. The forms surge and gather, like a choir of prayers or petals in a storm. There’s something about the rhythm in this piece that feels like the heartbeat of a longing you’ve kept quiet too long.
I invite you to let this painting live with you as a companion to your courage. It's a reminder that desire isn’t dangerous—it’s divine. In my own Catholic imagination and African spiritual heritage, desire is sacred. It's how the Spirit stirs. I made this painting in the hope that it might stir you too.The fiery reds and golden saffron tones in this painting recall both the tongues of Pentecostal flame. Red has long been associated with divine power ad transformation, initiation, and passionate commitment. James Elkins writes that red in painting can represent both love and rupture, “a colour that never settles.” That refusal to settle echoes O'Donohue’s own themes.
As art historian Victoria Finlay notes, in many cultures yellow has been associated with divinity and sacred insight. The swirling forms, with their petal-like shapes, hint at the hidden gardens within us—the ones desire calls us to tend.
This painting was inspired by John O’Donohue’s line, “May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire that disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.” I wanted this work to feel like a beckoning—like the moment just before you say yes to something brave and life-altering. The forms surge and gather, like a choir of prayers or petals in a storm. There’s something about the rhythm in this piece that feels like the heartbeat of a longing you’ve kept quiet too long.
I invite you to let this painting live with you as a companion to your courage. It's a reminder that desire isn’t dangerous—it’s divine. In my own Catholic imagination and African spiritual heritage, desire is sacred. It's how the Spirit stirs. I made this painting in the hope that it might stir you too.The fiery reds and golden saffron tones in this painting recall both the tongues of Pentecostal flame. Red has long been associated with divine power ad transformation, initiation, and passionate commitment. James Elkins writes that red in painting can represent both love and rupture, “a colour that never settles.” That refusal to settle echoes O'Donohue’s own themes.
As art historian Victoria Finlay notes, in many cultures yellow has been associated with divinity and sacred insight. The swirling forms, with their petal-like shapes, hint at the hidden gardens within us—the ones desire calls us to tend.