Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
2024
16 × 12 in.
Acrylic on Canvas
Original / 1 of 1
Everything is fine.
At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
This piece is my interpretation of the familiar This Is Fine idea. The character sits surrounded by fire while calmly drinking from his cup and convincing himself that whatever is happening around him is completely manageable.
“This is fine.”
“I'm okay with the events that are unfolding currently.”
“That's okay, things are going to be okay.”
Meanwhile, absolutely nothing is okay.
That's what I wanted to push further with my version.
As the panels continue, the fire doesn't magically disappear because he has decided to remain positive. It gets closer. It reaches him. His body begins to melt and burn until eventually even he can't pretend anymore.
I relate to that more than I probably should.
I'm generally a positive person. When something goes wrong, my instinct is usually to believe that I'll figure it out. Things will work themselves out. Tomorrow will be better. Keep moving. Keep laughing. Keep creating.
And I actually like that about myself.
But there's a difference between being optimistic and pretending something isn't hurting you.
Sometimes everything isn't fine.
Sometimes your life can feel like it's burning down around you while you're still sitting there trying to convince yourself that you have everything under control.
Work can be falling apart.
Relationships can change.
People can leave.
Plans can disappear.
You can lose things you thought were permanent.
And somehow you can still wake up the next morning, drink your coffee, make a joke, answer somebody with “I'm good,” and continue with your day.
That's the part of this painting that makes me laugh.
The character's commitment to being okay becomes so ridiculous that eventually he is literally melting and still trying to reassure himself.
There's something funny about it.
There's also something painfully human about it.
I don't think positivity is about convincing yourself that nothing bad is happening. Sometimes positivity is admitting that everything is absolutely on fire and believing you're going to survive it anyway.
You don't have to sit there pretending the flames aren't hot.
You can say:
This fucking sucks.
And still believe you'll be okay.
Sometimes everything is fine.
Sometimes everything is on fire.
And sometimes both somehow feel true at the same time.
Give me the year, dimensions, and medium, and I'll add the exact catalog information at the top like we've been doing with the others.
2024
16 × 12 in.
Acrylic on Canvas
Original / 1 of 1
Everything is fine.
At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
This piece is my interpretation of the familiar This Is Fine idea. The character sits surrounded by fire while calmly drinking from his cup and convincing himself that whatever is happening around him is completely manageable.
“This is fine.”
“I'm okay with the events that are unfolding currently.”
“That's okay, things are going to be okay.”
Meanwhile, absolutely nothing is okay.
That's what I wanted to push further with my version.
As the panels continue, the fire doesn't magically disappear because he has decided to remain positive. It gets closer. It reaches him. His body begins to melt and burn until eventually even he can't pretend anymore.
I relate to that more than I probably should.
I'm generally a positive person. When something goes wrong, my instinct is usually to believe that I'll figure it out. Things will work themselves out. Tomorrow will be better. Keep moving. Keep laughing. Keep creating.
And I actually like that about myself.
But there's a difference between being optimistic and pretending something isn't hurting you.
Sometimes everything isn't fine.
Sometimes your life can feel like it's burning down around you while you're still sitting there trying to convince yourself that you have everything under control.
Work can be falling apart.
Relationships can change.
People can leave.
Plans can disappear.
You can lose things you thought were permanent.
And somehow you can still wake up the next morning, drink your coffee, make a joke, answer somebody with “I'm good,” and continue with your day.
That's the part of this painting that makes me laugh.
The character's commitment to being okay becomes so ridiculous that eventually he is literally melting and still trying to reassure himself.
There's something funny about it.
There's also something painfully human about it.
I don't think positivity is about convincing yourself that nothing bad is happening. Sometimes positivity is admitting that everything is absolutely on fire and believing you're going to survive it anyway.
You don't have to sit there pretending the flames aren't hot.
You can say:
This fucking sucks.
And still believe you'll be okay.
Sometimes everything is fine.
Sometimes everything is on fire.
And sometimes both somehow feel true at the same time.
Give me the year, dimensions, and medium, and I'll add the exact catalog information at the top like we've been doing with the others.