Gallery Gay Blog -

Next to it hangs The Year I Lost My Family . It’s a large, dark piece. Almost abstract. Splatters of navy and charcoal. In the corner, tiny figures walk away, their backs turned. For a long time, I wanted to take this painting down. Burn it. But I’ve learned that the darkest paintings make the bright ones brighter. They add depth. They tell the truth. The gallery isn’t a highlight reel. It’s a whole life.

Coming out wasn’t a single event. It was the slow, agonizing decision to unlock the gallery doors, kick down the closet, and start hanging my own work on the walls. gallery gay blog

And the first piece? It can be anything you want. Next to it hangs The Year I Lost My Family

The first piece is called First Touch . It’s not a photograph. It’s the ghost of a feeling—the electric shock of a hand on the small of my back at a bar. The way my spine turned to liquid mercury. The way I leaned in instead of running away. You can’t see it. You have to feel the warmth still radiating from the canvas. Splatters of navy and charcoal

Further in, the room opens up. This is the Joy Wing .

Now, I think of it as a gallery.

Come walk through my gallery. See the boy I was. Meet the man I’m becoming. Laugh at the glitter. Grieve the dark paintings. Stay a while in the quiet room where two mugs sit on a counter.