The Labyrinth

Acrylic, infused biological material: [UNKNOWN], and occult sigilwork on canvas
48 x 36 inches

Not merely an image — this is a map, a glamour, and a trap.
One does not look at The Labyrinth so much as enter it.

At the center, a moth crucified on a triskelion spreads stained-glass wings, each pane inscribed with unblinking eyes — a choir of sight, a surveillance choir. Behind it, a green labyrinth spirals inward like a mirror of the mind… but its symmetry is violated by a downward-pointing black minute hand, piercing the maze at its heart. Blood spills from the breach — a rift in containment, fresh and unsanctioned.

Atop this minute hand: a fleur-de-lis, crowned with an eye, resting in the center of a radiant golden triangle. The effect?
Let’s just say you’re being watched — ritually, erotically, and probably by someone who knows exactly how to decode your shame.

To the left, an obelisk bears the Latin inscription:

“Dracones soluti, ordo mutator”
“When the dragons are unbound, the order is remade.”

(And yes, it’s about that kind of unbinding.)

In the lower right, the sigil of Gaap asserts itself — not decoratively, but invocationally. In the grimoires, Gaap governs knowledge transfer, forbidden unions, and dangerous thresholds. His presence here suggests this painting has already been read — by someone not supposed to be looking.

A Templar cross, a burning red rose, and a veiled eye emerge across the plane, each marked and layered with geometric overlays. Look closer: the triangle bears the letter “G” —
a symbol of initiation, inversion, or some hidden glyphic third thing.

And yes — bones are here too. Skulls and skeletal remains half-submerged like discarded guards at the gate. Not everyone survives the riddle.

This is a key.
But only for those who already know the locks.
Look too long, and you may feel the painting watching you back — hungry, amused, and slightly aroused.

Hear how I felt in the Labyrinth: “Stockholm Syndrome” by Nostalghia