Griffon [ 18” x 24” ] · Carbon pencil, blackening watercolours, and inks on paper mounted to canvas · [ 2020–2025 ]
The mask of protection.
This painting reimagines the griffon as both guardian and predator—eagle head and wings fused with lion body, claws open, eyes locked on the female figure in tearful controling conflict with her companion, shrouded by the skull. With unyielding vigilance, the creature perches at the threshold of a shadowed realm, wings half-spread, beak open in silent challenge, the blackening drips flowing from its feathers and mane like blood or ink seeping into the rock beneath.
The griffon embodies the paradox of protection and power: noble sentinel of treasures and secrets, yet capable of tearing apart any who approach unworthily. The blackening layers coil around its form, symbolizing accumulated duty, ferocity, and the erosion of trust over time. What guards also judges; what defends also destroys.
The work confronts the complexity of guardianship: how strength becomes isolation, how vigilance can harden into suspicion, how the protector’s own nature is masked and scarred by what it must defend against. Yet in the deepest shadow, she still somehow sees a faint gleam in the griffon’s eye—the possibility that even the most fearsome guardian holds a seed of change, or redemption when the threshold is long been crossed with other intent, and the masked cycle continues.
A meditation on power, protection, the thin line between sentinel and monster, and the quiet optimism that endures when we face the griffon within—dark yet eternally hopeful in its refusal to look away from the watch.
Dark yet hopeful,
Studio view, or related works: blairaiken@raincage.com
Inspiration & Personal Connection
This painting draws inspiration from the ancient stucco relief panels (1st century CE) from a Roman villa, at the Art Institute of Chicago. The panels depict a woman with a griffin — a powerful, mythical creature that has long symbolized guardianship, strength, and divine protection across many cultures.
In my version, the griffon becomes a controlling protector — not a distant mythical beast, but a quiet, vigilant ever presence in whose company masks what can not be safely removed. The blackening layers trace the slow accumulation of threat, vulnerability, and the deep human need for a space where we can finally drop our denial and stand unmasked. Through this work, I explore the profound discomfort of having an unwanted guardian — real or symbolic — that allows won’t allow us to lay down our armor without fear. I have watched this story unfold in friends lives, too often.
The griffon here is aggressive but masked as protector. It is watchful, steadfast, and “loyal” — creating a protected space where honesty becomes impossible and the soul can not breathe.
Yet even in this moment a faint gleam persists in the her eye and along the curve of its tearing cheek — a quiet reminder that true protection does not eliminate danger, but must be unmasked.
Dark yet hopeful.
Studio view, or related works: blairaiken@raincage.com
Dark yet hopeful.
Ancient Roman stucco relief panels (1st century CE) depicting a woman with a griffin (Art Institute of Chicago)