A sheet of paper turning to dust. At one time the aim was symbolism and perhaps even beauty, but that has all but vanished.

There is a man but he is almost gone. Colourless. Carved away and covered, he stands tall, too tall, calm and bewildered.

There is a gate I believe to be heaven. It is bright and in the distance. A garden perhaps.

The eye of a powerful beast examines the fractured flesh. There are symbols after all, but their meaning is indecipherable.

Man. Child. Garden. Horse. Water. Sky.

The man stands tall, too tall, and extends from the water to the sky.

Personal interpretation

I feel sick looking at this work. Even in a calm moment, while drinking tea, I see it out of the corner of my eye and I feel uneasy.

20 years in the making, the Disappearing Man is slowly turning to dust.

If there is a man, he hardly fits. His head and feet are vanishing off the edge. There is something growing out of his right foot. A child is hiding behind his burnt leg. His arms and hands are almost gone. His penis is a jewel and his scrotum is a jumbled mess. His heart is coming out. He is wounded and tipping, pulled by strings played by a demon.

The yellow beast on the other hand is materializing. A mythical figure with a human expression of shock or surprise.