THE ART THAT WATCHES YOU BACK

by jlinden619May 2025 · 3 min read

Some pieces don’t just sit there.They breathe.They wait.They watch.

You know the ones. The kind of art that doesn’t ask for approval. It doesn’t care if you “get it.” It’s not meant to match your couch or fill a wall. It exists because it had to. It emerges from a place deep within the artist, a necessity to express the inexpressible, to capture fleeting emotions and thoughts that refuse to be silenced. And when you look at it… it looks back. There’s something primal about that moment. The uneasy stillness between your gaze and its, like catching eyes with a stranger who knows too much about you, perhaps even more than you know about yourself. A painting that doesn’t tell your story, but instead makes you question if you’re living someone else’s narrative, a life that feels both foreign and familiar.

Not every piece you create is like that. Some are soft. Some are surface. They float on the surface of your consciousness, easily digestible and pleasing to the eye, but lacking that deeper resonance. But then there are those, the ones born from the quiet ache you thought you buried deep within your soul. The ones that knew the truth before you did. You don’t plan to make them. They slip out when you’re not trying to create something beautiful, when you’re in a moment of vulnerability, cracked open and alone in your thoughts and feelings. And somehow, they become the most honest thing you’ve ever made, pieces that resonate with the rawness of your existence.

Every piece demands you feel it twice. First, when you survive the moment, the initial rush of emotion that comes with the act of creation. Second, when you bleed it onto the canvas, pouring out your heart and soul into every stroke. That second time hurts more—because now you have to witness it. You have to make it real, give it shape, invite others in to share in the experience. That’s the kind of honesty that stares back at you, a reflection of your innermost self. That’s the kind of art that watches you as much as you watch it, creating a dialogue that transcends words. I used to try to explain those pieces. Now I don’t. Some stories don’t want to be understood. They just want to be seen, acknowledged for their existence. And sometimes, they want to see you too. So the next time you find yourself staring too long, wondering why a piece of art makes you feel… watched—know this: it’s not merely a reflection of the canvas or the paint; it’s a mirror held up to your own soul, inviting you to explore the depths of your own being and the unspoken truths that lie within.

It’s not always your eyes doing the looking.Sometimes, the story is studying you.

-j