"Held in Light"
In "Held in Light," a warm, glowing yellow bursts from the center like captured sunlight, melting into rich magentas that feel alive with hidden passion. The colors spill outward, softly fading into deep black edges that frame the piece like a quiet night sky. It's a perfect balance of light and shadow—intense yet inviting, as if the painting is gently breathing warmth into your space.
This captivating artwork draws you in with its intimate glow and mysterious depth. Bring home this stunning piece and let its radiant energy transform your room today.
Available in three sizes, each Giclée print is crafted on 100% archival cotton paper, mounted on dibond for lasting quality, and hand-embellished with 3D liquid glass epoxy resin that adds stunning real-life depth and dimension. Each print is beautifully framed with a minimalist black wooden frame.
Available sizes (framed):
- 66 x 81 x 5
- 77 x 96 x 5
- 96 x 118 x 5
The Radiant Series - Echoes of Drift and Radiance: Reimagining the Thought Paintings in the Radiant Series
In today's world of modern collage art, where chance encounters blend with the magic of color, Klibansky's newest pieces in the Radiant Series stand out as bright explorations of memory and myth. Titled "Still, I Drift" and "Held in Light," these two works reimagine the artist's earlier painting, "Love Potions Won’t Save This One." They draw us into a dreamy state that mixes clarity with confusion, turning the raw, blended collages from the original Thought Paintings series into glowing spaces for personal reflection. In these pieces, it's the viewer's own gaze that drives the story forward.
At heart, the Thought Paintings embrace a bold openness to happy accidents in composition. The artist lets go of strict storytelling, allowing sketches, abstract shapes, hints of human figures, or natural patterns to crash together in a digital swirl. The outcome isn't just random abstraction—it's a purposeful mess: combinations that ignore cause and effect, similar to the unplanned bursts of the subconscious in Surrealist art, but without forced symbols. What draws you in is the empty space for your own meaning; the work doesn't tell you what to think. Instead, it encourages you to create your narrative—maybe a story of broken love from the "Love Potions" theme, or a quiet pondering of life's wandering paths. This approach feels like a Rorschach inkblot test made with paint and lines, highlighting a key idea in art: the story isn't fixed by the artist but grows from what the viewer brings to it, making it a shared creation.
The Radiant Series builds on this by giving the originals a fresh burst of color. In reworking them, [Artist's Name] adds a vibrant depth, with bold colors glowing from the center like sparks in a fading sky. "Still, I Drift" captures the deep silence of an ocean-like subconscious: rich blues flow inward, their soft, dreamlike movement hinting at a slow dive into thought, where broken shapes drift freely, carrying the light, weightless sadness of endless seas. But the edges fade into a dark frame—a vignetting effect that echoes the moody borders of Mark Rothko's color fields, those heavy zones where light gives way to shadow. This isn't copying Rothko; it's an echo of his style. The darkness highlights the inner glow as a brief moment of insight, narrowing the blue's vastness into a growing emptiness that reflects life's inevitable pull toward disorder.
Now compare that to "Held in Light," where warm yellows and rich pinks burst forth like a steamy, blooming garden—full of lively, almost sensual energy. The glowing center seems to breathe, as if the mixed elements are lit from within, pressing against the dark edges like longing held back. But this brightness isn't all smooth joy; the jumbled forms—a limb twisting with a flower pattern, or a potion bottle melting into geometric shapes—keep the rebellious spirit of the Thought Paintings, urging us to blend the physical and the dreamlike. Here, color acts as a symbol for inner emotional layers: it doesn't just enhance the look but reveals deeper feelings, lighting up the tensions hidden in the original's black-and-white limits. The yellows and pinks, warm and inviting like humid air, evoke a paused breath—a instant caught between bliss and fading away, much like the magical potions hinted at in the original title.
What ties the Radiant Series together is how it challenges the viewer: by pushing vivid colors outward against that Rothko-like darkness, Klibansky makes us face the process of change itself. The lack of clear structure isn't a weakness—it's the ignition point, inviting us to cast our own hopes or disasters onto the canvas. In a time of algorithm-driven feeds and tidy stories, this series offers a subtle act of defiance: real connection comes not from the artist's plan, but from the tales we choose to wander into. You walk away from these works without easy answers, but with a quiet buzz of potential—a shining nudge that art, like memory, is always being reshaped.