Stories Without Words pulls the viewer into a moody, layered field of deep indigo and midnight blue, disturbed here and there by flashes of crimson and magenta that seem to glow up from underneath, as though something is happening just beneath the surface we're not quite allowed to see. Cutting across this atmosphere are two great sweeps of fine white linework — feathered, wind-blown, almost like handwriting abstracted past the point of legibility. They drift and fork across the canvas the way conversation does: never in a straight line, always trailing off, doubling back, overlapping with itself.

The title itself seems to dare the viewer to listen closer, to imagine the fuller conversation hiding just behind these fragments. The textured lines read like transcripts of something overheard: dense in places, thinning to a whisper in others, present but never quite readable. Beneath them, the crimson and magenta stains feel like the emotional charge behind the words — the feeling that persists even after the sentence is lost. Painted in liquid ink on black, deckled-edge handmade paper, the piece has a tactile, almost skin-like intimacy, as if the paper itself is one of the "walls" being spoken through. In the end, Stories Without Words becomes a kind of portrait of eavesdropping itself — that particular ache of catching a fragment of someone else's story and being left to imagine the rest.

• 30x23 original painting created on black, deckled-edge handmade paper with liquid inks. The process simulates watercolor paint but is lightfast, waterproof and permanent

• White ink is used to hand draw the "conversations"

• Protected with several coats of UV varnish

• Signed on the back and front

• Arrives in a hand-cut, heavy wood minimalist black frame with UV-coated museum quality glass; ready-to-hang