The truth lies in the eyes of the beholder

I want to share something with you

something I've been thinking about a lot lately,

especially within my process as a painter.

Every time I finish a painting, I notice something interesting:

When people look at the artwork,

they sometimes see completely different things.

Not because they don’t understand, or aren’t sharp enough but because each person brings

something of their own into the way they look.

Someone might look at the color red and see romance.

Someone else might see pain.

Someone might focus on an abstract stain in the corner,

as if it’s the heart of the painting

and I didn’t even pay attention to it.

And that’s exactly what I love about art:

There’s no single truth.

No definitive explanation.

The truth lies in the eye of the beholder.

But that’s also the challenge.

Because when you create, you want to be understood.

And at the same time you want to spark curiosity.

You want clear communication.

But not always too clear.

Sometimes, people take what I painted

to places I never imagined.

At first, I didn’t understand

how they saw what they saw.

But there’s something mysterious about it something less explained, more felt.

A painting isn’t a TED Talk.

At least not in my approach.

It’s not there to teach or preach.

It’s there to stimulate thought,

to let the brain work in an abstract way

so that each person who looks at it

actually creates their own narrative.

From Renaissance paintings to today,

symbolism in art has always played a critical role.

Sometimes, an entire narrative

can shift just because of one small detail like which flower the figure in the painting is holding.

For example:

If a girl in a painting holds a carnation,

it can symbolize love, a promise—or even mourning.

But if it’s a rose,

the message might be entirely different:

maybe purity, or maybe passion.

The meaning shifts,

and the whole story takes on a new tone just because of the flower.

That’s what fascinates me about art:

The dialogue between what I choose to put into the painting,

and how it will be interpreted by the viewer.

Behind every small symbol

there’s the potential for an entire world of interpretation.

And so, everyone brings

their own story into the artwork.

I don’t aim for the audience

to see exactly what I see.

I always want to leave room

for doubt and for interpretation.

I want them to feel something.

For it to touch them

even if in a way completely different

from what I intended.

That’s the beauty of art.

It’s an open dialogue between the creator

and the viewer.

So next time you stand in front of a piece of art, ask yourself:

What am I seeing here?

And just as importantly why am I seeing that?

Because in the end, maybe it’s true not only about art

but also about life:

The truth lies in the eye of the beholder.