Selected Works.

These paintings form a single, continuous narrative cycle — — an obsessive exploration of unmasking. At moments of birth, rupture, or death, the masks we wear fall away, revealing love and loss, betrayal and loyalty, desire and grief, and the quiet persistence of hope.

Painted over many years, the works blend personal memory with universal questions of morality. Carbon captured from the atmosphere is ground into the pigments themselves — a literal darkening that carries redemption.

The delicate grid acts as a fence. We, the viewers, stand outside it — not impressed by the barrier, but driven to look past it to discover the raw truth within. My carbon drips and blackening actively break and dissolve the structure, enacting the process of unmasking.

Viewed together, they trace one long emotional arc: from rupture and fall, through protection, violence, and betrayal, toward the difficult work of becoming oneself.

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This triptych stands at the threshold where life and death intertwine. In the central panel, a wounded figure is held by his love as Death looms above, its own skull masked until the final moment. The blackening layers trace the slow beginning of transformation. Even in this darkest birth, hope remains — a reminder that every ending carries the seed of something new.

We are born at the moment we truly feel death — the masks begin to fall as the things we truly value are finally seen.

Dark yet hopeful.

This self-portrait is the moment the masks finally come off. After decades of layering protection, the blackening layers record the weight of every “ false self” I carried. I do not pretend to be a good man. I stand exposed, flawed, and finally myself.

Here the long work of removing the mask finally begins.

In the central panel, A younger me kneels before the apple while “Eve” is also distracted. Between them coils the serpent, masked and silent. The black-and-white side panels show figures covering their ears and holding their tongues — the first quiet acts of self-deception. The bite brings knowledge, but also the beginning of separation.

Youth, desire, and the seductive masks of ego, and denial build.

A diptych about the love a man can carry. On the left, my daughter Isa wrapped in the shape of my failing heart. On the right, the personification of romantic love born from years of pain and hope. Both shaped by the masks we wear, yet still reaching toward healing.

The many masks of fatherhood layered with those from the ache of love we carry.

Desire pulls us into the water, leaving grief that will never fully heal. The black-and-white panels intensify the aching surrender and irreversible loss. In yielding to beauty, another mask of loyalty quietly falls away.

The dangerous mask of desire for what we cannot have, grows and grows.

This diptych shows betrayal turning violent. Hunter torn apart by his own hounds after being transformed into a stag — the ultimate unmasking. The black-and-white panels heighten the shock and fracturing of identity. In this moment, loyalty becomes betrayal, and the self is shattered by those closest to him.

The violent moment when trusted masks are ripped away.

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Weapons, relics, and a gas mask form a personal archive of survival. Skulls loom above each piece as reminders not to romanticize the past. The masks we wear for protection become both shield and burden — keeping danger out, but the world at a distance.

The heavy masks and armor we build for survival, and shield us from the harm we have caused.

This triptych examines beauty and violence meeting in the act of pursuit. A modern samurai stands amid the floating world, weapons ready and battle mask still engaged. The black-and-white panels deepen the inner conflict between control and surrender. What we chase and collect ultimately slips away, leaving only the weight of our own violence.

The mask of pursuit of what we think is important— chasing beauty and knowledge even as it destroys.

This portrait marks the moment of honest self-creation. I raise the brush and meet the viewer’s gaze directly. My wife stands beside me, her mask removed alongside mine — accepting me with all my flaws. Through paint I strip away every mask I have worn, revealing myself without apology. The journey of unmasking does not end; it continues.

After all the masks fall, we stand born — unhidden and ourselves.

For me, I continue to wear the grin of the ONI (demon) as my true self. I may not like that, but it is.

I paint to answer a single question I carried inside:

What are we without our masks?

These paintings are the record of that long unmasking. Each brushstroke, each drip, each exposed figure is part of the work of becoming myself.

Thank you for experiencing these works.

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Next Collection → The Four Paths

Studio visits, or related works: blairaiken@raincage.com

Dark yet hopeful.

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