Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
2025
16 × 12 in.
Watercolor and Paint Marker on Paper
Original / 1 of 1
A spider caught a fly.
The spider is thrilled.
The fly is absolutely fucked.
And his friend just showed up in time to witness the whole thing.
Oh no.
That's basically the painting.
I wanted the spider to look almost ridiculously happy about successfully catching his dinner. He's crawling across the web with this huge smile on his face while the fly hangs helplessly in the center.
Then there's the other fly.
He's watching from a safe distance and realizing exactly what happened to his friend.
I love creating little scenes like this because you don't necessarily need an enormous story. You can look at the characters and immediately understand what's happening.
But I also think there's something very human hidden inside such a stupid little situation.
Sometimes we fly directly into things we probably should have avoided.
Bad decisions.
Bad relationships.
Bad habits.
Situations where everybody else can see what's happening before we can.
Then eventually you look around and realize:
Well, shit. I'm in the web.
And somewhere nearby your friend is probably watching the entire disaster unfold thinking:
Oh no.
Meanwhile, the spider is having the best day of his life.
That's another thing I like about this piece.
The exact same moment can be completely different depending on who you are.
For the spider, it's success.
For one fly, it's disaster.
For the other fly, it's a warning.
Nobody in the painting is experiencing the same moment the same way.
Maybe that's giving a cartoon spider and two flies way too much philosophical responsibility.
But that's kind of what I like about making art.
It can be meaningful.
It can be stupid.
Sometimes it can be both.
2025
16 × 12 in.
Watercolor and Paint Marker on Paper
Original / 1 of 1
A spider caught a fly.
The spider is thrilled.
The fly is absolutely fucked.
And his friend just showed up in time to witness the whole thing.
Oh no.
That's basically the painting.
I wanted the spider to look almost ridiculously happy about successfully catching his dinner. He's crawling across the web with this huge smile on his face while the fly hangs helplessly in the center.
Then there's the other fly.
He's watching from a safe distance and realizing exactly what happened to his friend.
I love creating little scenes like this because you don't necessarily need an enormous story. You can look at the characters and immediately understand what's happening.
But I also think there's something very human hidden inside such a stupid little situation.
Sometimes we fly directly into things we probably should have avoided.
Bad decisions.
Bad relationships.
Bad habits.
Situations where everybody else can see what's happening before we can.
Then eventually you look around and realize:
Well, shit. I'm in the web.
And somewhere nearby your friend is probably watching the entire disaster unfold thinking:
Oh no.
Meanwhile, the spider is having the best day of his life.
That's another thing I like about this piece.
The exact same moment can be completely different depending on who you are.
For the spider, it's success.
For one fly, it's disaster.
For the other fly, it's a warning.
Nobody in the painting is experiencing the same moment the same way.
Maybe that's giving a cartoon spider and two flies way too much philosophical responsibility.
But that's kind of what I like about making art.
It can be meaningful.
It can be stupid.
Sometimes it can be both.