Gamma Cru
I made Gamma Cru as part of my first group show in Paris, where I was thinking about celestial bodies and the sacred, generative force of the feminine. The round canvas echoes the shape of the moon, womb, and planet — a form that holds, shelters, and cycles.
This piece draws its name from Gamma Crucis, a red giant star in the Southern Cross constellation — bright, defiant, and nearing the end of its stellar life. There’s something about that cycle that moved me: the burn, the beauty, the inevitable transformation. I layered this work with midnight reds, soft auroras, and deep violet shadows. It feels like standing in the middle of a birth or a blaze. I want you to feel that too.
The dark red and violet palette suggests bloodlines, sacrifice, ancestry, and transcendence. These colours are not passive — they are charged with depth. Red is the colour of martyrdom and of life-force, while deep purples and blacks have been used to honour mystery and mourning, as well as royalty and spiritual power.
The circular composition also resonates with ideas of unity and eternity. Circular formats imply portals, spiritual wholeness, and divine feminine presence. Here, the orb becomes a cosmic mirror — a star, a seed, a cell — echoing creation itself.
I made Gamma Cru as part of my first group show in Paris, where I was thinking about celestial bodies and the sacred, generative force of the feminine. The round canvas echoes the shape of the moon, womb, and planet — a form that holds, shelters, and cycles.
This piece draws its name from Gamma Crucis, a red giant star in the Southern Cross constellation — bright, defiant, and nearing the end of its stellar life. There’s something about that cycle that moved me: the burn, the beauty, the inevitable transformation. I layered this work with midnight reds, soft auroras, and deep violet shadows. It feels like standing in the middle of a birth or a blaze. I want you to feel that too.
The dark red and violet palette suggests bloodlines, sacrifice, ancestry, and transcendence. These colours are not passive — they are charged with depth. Red is the colour of martyrdom and of life-force, while deep purples and blacks have been used to honour mystery and mourning, as well as royalty and spiritual power.
The circular composition also resonates with ideas of unity and eternity. Circular formats imply portals, spiritual wholeness, and divine feminine presence. Here, the orb becomes a cosmic mirror — a star, a seed, a cell — echoing creation itself.
I made Gamma Cru as part of my first group show in Paris, where I was thinking about celestial bodies and the sacred, generative force of the feminine. The round canvas echoes the shape of the moon, womb, and planet — a form that holds, shelters, and cycles.
This piece draws its name from Gamma Crucis, a red giant star in the Southern Cross constellation — bright, defiant, and nearing the end of its stellar life. There’s something about that cycle that moved me: the burn, the beauty, the inevitable transformation. I layered this work with midnight reds, soft auroras, and deep violet shadows. It feels like standing in the middle of a birth or a blaze. I want you to feel that too.
The dark red and violet palette suggests bloodlines, sacrifice, ancestry, and transcendence. These colours are not passive — they are charged with depth. Red is the colour of martyrdom and of life-force, while deep purples and blacks have been used to honour mystery and mourning, as well as royalty and spiritual power.
The circular composition also resonates with ideas of unity and eternity. Circular formats imply portals, spiritual wholeness, and divine feminine presence. Here, the orb becomes a cosmic mirror — a star, a seed, a cell — echoing creation itself.