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Special Features
An original painting by Coris Evans
Painted in 2024
Australian made acrylic paint on stretched canvas
50cm (W) x 40cm (H) x 1.5cm (D)
Artwork comes unframed
Includes a signed certificate of authenticity
The Story
A lullaby wrapped in contradiction, a canvas where nostalgia and consequence collide in a dreamscape both tender and telling. Lambs leap weightlessly, plucked from the rhythmic solace of counting sheep, their flight a child’s ritual of surrendering to sleep. But beneath them, a plastic bag—once the height of convenience, now a banned remnant of environmental neglect—billows like an unwanted ghost, a relic of an era that took without thinking. Beyond, an idyllic scene of horses playing in open fields, a landscape painted in the same soft hues as the audiobooks my grandfather would play on childhood sleepovers, their steady narration a bridge to slumber. Nearby, a single Barcelona Chair stands poised in perfect, polished stillness—a beacon of style I once longed to own in my early twenties, a symbol of design as status, beauty as aspiration. And then, the quietest touch of sentiment—a silver, heart-shaped locket, the one my grandmother always wore, heavy with memory, light against her skin. Each object whispers of desire—some fleeting, some forever—woven into a picture that asks what we chase, what we keep, and what, despite everything, refuses to be left behind.
A small glass bottle, its label worn from years of use, stands at the centre of the canvas—humble yet powerful, a relic of care, of ritual, of a mother’s touch. The deep menthol scent seeps through memory, sharp and familiar, curling through time like a whispered incantation. This was the cure for everything—headaches, muscle aches, stomach pains, perhaps even heartaches and broken bones if you believed enough. A dab on the temples, a trace on the wrists, and her hands, warm and certain, pressing it into my skin as if willing the pain away. The painting hums with that quiet devotion, a love so instinctive, so effortless. And yet, the air is different now. The scent still lingers, but she is gone. The healer, the guardian, the one who could fix anything—except herself. The bottle remains, an artefact of a time when her presence alone was enough to make everything better.
Packaging
Artwork will be sent wrapped in kraft paper and securely packaged in a custom-made recycled cardboard box and eco kraft paper tape.
Delivery
Australia wide delivery will be calculated at checkout.
For international delivery please get in touch to discuss options here.
Special Features
An original painting by Coris Evans
Painted in 2024
Australian made acrylic paint on stretched canvas
50cm (W) x 40cm (H) x 1.5cm (D)
Artwork comes unframed
Includes a signed certificate of authenticity
The Story
A lullaby wrapped in contradiction, a canvas where nostalgia and consequence collide in a dreamscape both tender and telling. Lambs leap weightlessly, plucked from the rhythmic solace of counting sheep, their flight a child’s ritual of surrendering to sleep. But beneath them, a plastic bag—once the height of convenience, now a banned remnant of environmental neglect—billows like an unwanted ghost, a relic of an era that took without thinking. Beyond, an idyllic scene of horses playing in open fields, a landscape painted in the same soft hues as the audiobooks my grandfather would play on childhood sleepovers, their steady narration a bridge to slumber. Nearby, a single Barcelona Chair stands poised in perfect, polished stillness—a beacon of style I once longed to own in my early twenties, a symbol of design as status, beauty as aspiration. And then, the quietest touch of sentiment—a silver, heart-shaped locket, the one my grandmother always wore, heavy with memory, light against her skin. Each object whispers of desire—some fleeting, some forever—woven into a picture that asks what we chase, what we keep, and what, despite everything, refuses to be left behind.
A small glass bottle, its label worn from years of use, stands at the centre of the canvas—humble yet powerful, a relic of care, of ritual, of a mother’s touch. The deep menthol scent seeps through memory, sharp and familiar, curling through time like a whispered incantation. This was the cure for everything—headaches, muscle aches, stomach pains, perhaps even heartaches and broken bones if you believed enough. A dab on the temples, a trace on the wrists, and her hands, warm and certain, pressing it into my skin as if willing the pain away. The painting hums with that quiet devotion, a love so instinctive, so effortless. And yet, the air is different now. The scent still lingers, but she is gone. The healer, the guardian, the one who could fix anything—except herself. The bottle remains, an artefact of a time when her presence alone was enough to make everything better.
Packaging
Artwork will be sent wrapped in kraft paper and securely packaged in a custom-made recycled cardboard box and eco kraft paper tape.
Delivery
Australia wide delivery will be calculated at checkout.
For international delivery please get in touch to discuss options here.
Special Features
An original painting by Coris Evans
Painted in 2024
Australian made acrylic paint on stretched canvas
50cm (W) x 40cm (H) x 1.5cm (D)
Artwork comes unframed
Includes a signed certificate of authenticity
The Story
A lullaby wrapped in contradiction, a canvas where nostalgia and consequence collide in a dreamscape both tender and telling. Lambs leap weightlessly, plucked from the rhythmic solace of counting sheep, their flight a child’s ritual of surrendering to sleep. But beneath them, a plastic bag—once the height of convenience, now a banned remnant of environmental neglect—billows like an unwanted ghost, a relic of an era that took without thinking. Beyond, an idyllic scene of horses playing in open fields, a landscape painted in the same soft hues as the audiobooks my grandfather would play on childhood sleepovers, their steady narration a bridge to slumber. Nearby, a single Barcelona Chair stands poised in perfect, polished stillness—a beacon of style I once longed to own in my early twenties, a symbol of design as status, beauty as aspiration. And then, the quietest touch of sentiment—a silver, heart-shaped locket, the one my grandmother always wore, heavy with memory, light against her skin. Each object whispers of desire—some fleeting, some forever—woven into a picture that asks what we chase, what we keep, and what, despite everything, refuses to be left behind.
A small glass bottle, its label worn from years of use, stands at the centre of the canvas—humble yet powerful, a relic of care, of ritual, of a mother’s touch. The deep menthol scent seeps through memory, sharp and familiar, curling through time like a whispered incantation. This was the cure for everything—headaches, muscle aches, stomach pains, perhaps even heartaches and broken bones if you believed enough. A dab on the temples, a trace on the wrists, and her hands, warm and certain, pressing it into my skin as if willing the pain away. The painting hums with that quiet devotion, a love so instinctive, so effortless. And yet, the air is different now. The scent still lingers, but she is gone. The healer, the guardian, the one who could fix anything—except herself. The bottle remains, an artefact of a time when her presence alone was enough to make everything better.
Packaging
Artwork will be sent wrapped in kraft paper and securely packaged in a custom-made recycled cardboard box and eco kraft paper tape.
Delivery
Australia wide delivery will be calculated at checkout.
For international delivery please get in touch to discuss options here.