They say the sea is salt from siren tears. A longing, quiet ache that comes from knowing nothing can ever stay. Each dusk a siren would rise from the depths, her song curling through the wind like smoke. She sang not to lure but to remember faces long gone, love never fully held. One evening she did not sing. The moon leaned closer, the tide paused and she cried. Not loudly nor broken. Just one tear, clear and ancient, slipping down her cheek into the ocean. The sea took it like a secret. And each dawn as the sun began to touch the waves once more, you could feel it; that single drop of quiet longing, rippling through the sea.

It began raining while I was live painting the first session, the droplets became beautifully stained into the piece over the course of finishing.

20 × 20 inches on a 2 inch thick canvas
charcoal on canvas
2025