122 x 153 cm
The Geometry of Waiting depicts a young girl paused before the heavy door of an old church, its stained glass casting fractured light across a surface ordered by lines and symmetry. The composition is governed by geometry: the vertical weight of the door, the measured divisions of glass and stone, the quiet balance of the frame around her. These elements do not confine her; they establish a point of equilibrium—a space where multiple directions remain equally possible.
The painting holds a suspended moment—one in which time does not stop, but instead moves slowly, almost imperceptibly, away from her. The stillness is not empty, but charged. The geometry becomes a way of understanding waiting itself: not as paralysis, but as a state of potential, where movement has not yet declared its direction.
In retrospect, we often believe we understood who we were in such moments. Yet with time, it becomes clear that identity is never fixed; it shifts with every second spent in hesitation, shaped as much by what we choose as by what we leave behind.
The church stands as a symbol of the past—of inherited belief, structure, and certainty. To remain outside it is to exist within a threshold: a precise and fragile balance between conviction and doubt.
The girl stands at this point of balance, equally capable of turning back or walking away. Her stillness does not resolve the question—it preserves it: not whether she will choose, but when.
