HALLEY'S COMET

Mixed media, acrylic, epoxy resin, glitter on framed canvas She returns. She always returns. In *Halley’s Comet*, the comet is not an event—it is a promise. Its tail of white light surges from the upper right corner with quiet force, sweeping across space in a dazzling arc of silvery filaments. It asks no permission to pass. It passes, as it always has, as it will again in seventy-five years. Around it, space fills with silent presences. In the upper left, a small, solitary gray moon watches the passage with the resignation of one doomed to remain. In the lower right, a vast, gentle planet of lavender and gold, streaked with yellow like frozen northern lights. It watches the spectacle from its misty surface. It has seen this comet pass by before. It recognizes it. Between the two, a spectral silhouette takes shape in the interstellar vapors. White and gray swirls that resemble a creature, a bird, a passing ghost. Orange and white stars dot the darkness like discreet witnesses to a millennia-old cosmic rendezvous. The raw wooden frame anchors this vision in the tangible, reminding us that humans have observed this comet for centuries, feet on the ground, heads raised toward the same sky. “Halley’s Comet” is a work about the long term—about what returns, about what we await, and about the beauty of knowing that some things never truly disappear.