Omnia Sol

The idea that people come and go from your life has always bothered me. As I make preparations for my senior year of high school, I can’t help but contemplate on the fact that much of what my life looks like now will soon be drastically different. It’s terrifying to me how much of my friends, mentors, and other cherished relationships and experiences will be left behind before I know it. I thought a lot about this while painting Omnia Sol. The title of the painting comes from a song in Latin. It translates, “the sun warms all things near and far; though I am distant, be true.” Even though very soon I’m leaving my childhood behind and setting off into the world, I’ll never forget how my loved ones have shaped me. The painting depicts a carefully maintained cemetery in Bad Hofganstein, Austria. I focused on contrast—dark, turbulent clouds and heavy textures in the sky set against the warm glow of candles scattered among the graves. The church stands at the center, its light cutting through the gloom, while the mountains fade into shadow behind it. Thick brushstrokes and layered paint create a sense of movement in the sky, almost restless, while the foreground is more grounded and detailed, drawing attention to individual names, flowers, and small lights. The atmosphere of the place seemed moody - storm clouds hung low in the sky and trails of smoke ascended from the town up into the hazy silhouette of the Alps. But the place to me seemed bittersweet, so lovingly well-kept, with little candles all over illuminating a scene that could at first seem dreary. To me, the cemetery is a symbol of Omnia Sol - it might not seem particularly sunny at first glance, but the light connects us all, and the light we share with one another now will linger even after we’ve moved on in our lives. That idea is reflected in the painting’s light. Even in a place associated with loss, the candles and the church suggest something enduring. For me, that points to a Christian hope—that relationships are not simply lost, but transformed, and that light persists beyond separation. I’d like to invite the viewer to wonder which names their own cemetery of memories - those who have impacted them who now live only in inspiration. Like flowers placed over a grave, we decorate the holes left by those who are gone by living our lives shaped and changed by their influence.