Two YouTubers V 2026 – 40 x 50cm, oil, acrylic, oil pastel, charcoal on canvas
The upper inset image depicts a person’s arms reaching up to their head, perhaps in shock or outrage, the unmistakable gesture of exasperation, of “I can’t believe this is happening again.” The body language of witnessing something intolerable. Swirling lines suggest psychic pressure, the mental load of constant outrage fatigue. This is the embodied response to living through democratic collapse in real time, to watching charter cities proliferate while mainstream media ignores them, to the tech broligarchy consolidating power while alternative outlets document it for shrinking audiences.
In the bottom left corner, a panel rendered in negative shows a woman’s head wearing glasses—ghostly, photographic, like a still captured from a stream. She’s observing, witnessing, but inverted, reversed, operating in a different register. Two modes of response: emotional overflow above, analytical observation below.
To the right are panels depicting nothing save a few marks, empty feeds, dead air, buffering zones. They represent gaps in coverage, things that aren’t being discussed, zones of exception that go unreported.
The painting mixes additive and subtractive marks and smears. The structural integrity of the windows appears under duress, lumps of paint congeal and fall near window edges, material failure as if the infrastructure is melting or decomposing under internal pressure. Impasto eruptions along the top edge in red, yellow, orange, green, blue suggest the painting is boiling over, the frame unable to contain the heat.
The brown ground is oppressive, muddy, institutional, suffocating. Not toxic yellow alarm but something heavier, like contaminated earth or bureaucratic sludge. Yellow vertical stripes try to hold things in place but they’re too chaotic, more like emergency tape hastily applied than actual support.
The body knows something is catastrophically wrong even when the systems that should respond are paralyzed.