Abstract Art: The Language of the Unspoken
There is always beauty in the broken...
There are times in life when words don't work. When the
structure of language breaks down because of experience, when memory becomes
foggy, and the soul wants to speak in a language that is known only to the soul.
That's where abstract art starts for me.
I haven't always been an abstract artist. I have been a son,
a dreamer, a mourner, and a builder of houses not made of stone but of spirit. Caelthorne
Art, under The House of Caelthorne - my creative haven, wasn't built out of
ambition but out of memory. I promised to honor my late mother, Isabel Lilian,
whose grace and strength still inspire everything I do. Not only did I find my
purpose through her, but I also found my palette.
Abstract art came in not because I like it, but because I
need it. I needed to find a way to show my sadness that was too deep for words
and too sacred for a straight story. I remember standing in front of a blank
canvas and realizing I didn't want to paint what I saw. I wanted to paint how I
felt. The mess, the clarity, and the divine confusion of being human. I wanted
to paint memory without a face.
Browse my current available artwork and prints here: Available Artwork
So, I started.
I didn't think about composition or color theory back then.
I thought about breathing. Of the heart. Of the shape that pain makes as it
moves through the body. Each stroke of the brush was a breath. A prayer for
each layer. And over time, the canvas became a friend who held my silence,
taking in my questions and showing me truths I didn't know I was hiding.
That is what abstract art can do. A religious aesthetic
balance between color, composition and emotion.
As I worked on my practice, I came to understand that abstraction is not a lack of structure but a deeper order, like spiritual geometry. It asks the viewer to put logic on hold, to lean into emotion, and to think about what they see instead of just taking it in. Abstract art doesn't tell you what to look at. It asks you how you feel and then lets you sit with the answer.
See what I made for International Pride Month 2025: Monochrome Rainbow
The Lady Isabel Foundation Connection
This is why I believe abstract art has such a vital role in
healing. At The Lady Isabel Foundation,
we work with individuals and communities navigating loss, displacement, and
generational trauma. Many of them cannot
articulate their tales in traditional language. However, when you give them a
brush, a place, and a secure silence, their spirits start talking. Their
narratives appear as shapes rather than as sentences. as hue. as movement.
We have witnessed children from broken homes reclaiming
their identities through vibrant, wild colors, and survivors of violence
expressing their journeys through lines that tremble and swirl. They don't have
to explain in abstraction. All they have to do is be. That's sufficient. That
is holy.
Every artwork I make is an act of witness in my opinion. I
frequently use symbolism in my work; it's implied rather than explicit. I
incorporate elements of sacred geometry, architectural ruins, botanical ghosts,
echoes of my ancestry, and pieces of African cosmology. These are more than
just design decisions. They serve as markers. They serve as a reminder to
me—and hopefully to the audience—that there is ancestry even in the midst of
chaos. There is a sense of belonging even in fragmentation.
Consider one of my most intimate pieces, "Grief in Bloom." With its loud bold colors, bleeding textures, and flashes of unnatural synchronic composition—colors I identify with transcendence—it is a study in rebirth. It depicts a process—the conversion of suffering into something honorable—rather than a specific individual. Without having to justify it, abstract art enables us to transform suffering into beauty (view the full artwork video on Youtube, here: Grief in Bloom - Artwork Statement)
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| "Grief in Bloom" Acrylic on Stretched Canvas 84x118cm Unframed |
Abstract Art is about senses. Not Understanding.
I'm frequently asked how to "understand" abstract art. You don't have to I often tell them. It's something that you have to sense. It's not a puzzle to solve, but a mirror to look into. Certain pieces will have a profound impact. You might be repulsed or confused by others. Each of those responses is legitimate. Abstraction merely speaks in a different dialect, one of intuition, memory, and mood. Art is a dialogue.
Impressive art is not what Caelthorne Art is all about. I
create in order to be remembered. to repair. to rethink. Through abstract art, I
can affirm a uniquely, spiritual, and post-modern expression of being,
challenge Western ideas of representation, and fight social justice. It gives
the audience the freedom to interpret without guidance. Vulnerability is
required. It encourages transparency.
Abstract art is defiantly timeless in today's art world, where trends change with algorithmic precision, you can't change the abstract expression the artwork's intended for.
You have to live it. It is the voice of a soul, not the echo
of a fashion sense.
Therefore, if you see something in any of my artworks that
makes you feel something, know that it's not a coincidence. That's the work
doing what it was designed to do. To live your life, not to adorn your walls.
to accompany you on your walk. to make room for your own untold tales.
I will keep creating what is felt rather than what is
expected as an artist, a mourner, and a seeker. I will respect the quiet, the
darkness, and the unsaid. Because the most profound truths can be found there,
in the ambiguity. Abstract art thrives there.
And it’s a beautiful metaphor, really. The connection
between broken lives and abstract art – there is always beauty in the broken.
