«Baphomet's Impatience»

Baphomet waits upon his throne, but his patience has worn thin as a blade. He does not roar. He does not rise. He simply remains there, his head resting against one hand, wearing that unsettling calm that comes before great fury. His kingdom burns silently around him, while something far darker burns within. I painted this piece at a time when I, too, had no patience left for the world. I was done holding myself back, swallowing everything, letting others eat away at my time, my energy, my light. Here, Baphomet is my inner demon sitting tall, still motionless… but on the verge of breaking free. He watches. He thinks. Perhaps he judges. One thing is certain: he is sick of waiting. I thought I would paint Hell in black, but I had brought navy blue by mistake. I had to create my own darkness by mixing colours, and it became deeper, more alive, almost violet. As though the mistake knew better than I did what the painting was meant to become. Under blacklight, its rubies and hidden glimmers awaken, and Hell reveals a second skin. As I painted it, I had the strange feeling that I was not alone. As though a presence were guiding my hand, as though this image already existed somewhere and had simply chosen me to bring it into the world. Baphomet’s Impatience is the calm before the demon rises.