The Eye of God

Published on 4 October 2025 at 22:31

MEDIUM : Watercolor on paper

DATE : 2025

 

The Eye of God

High above, across the expanse of the cathedral ceiling, The Eye of God gazes down. It is not only a painting but a presence—an eternal reminder that every step, every prayer, every silence beneath is witnessed.

At the center of the ceiling, the divine eye dominates, vast and unblinking. Its iris spirals with cosmic depth, as though the heavens themselves are contained within a single gaze. Radiating outward, beams of light scatter into patterns that illuminate cherubic forms, angelic figures, and drifting clouds. The symmetry of the architecture frames the eye perfectly, making it feel at once anchored and infinite.

Shadow plays an equal role—around the edges, darker tones form clouded recesses, reminding us that divinity holds both clarity and mystery. Light and shadow, revelation and concealment: the balance is deliberate.

The central eye is detailed with precision, contrasting against the softer rendering of the surrounding forms. Architectural lines of the ceiling lead the viewer’s gaze upward, guiding the eye toward the divine center. The figures and clouds at the periphery are more fluid, suggesting the heavens dissolving into formlessness the further one strays from the eye’s direct vision.

Perspective was crucial here: no matter where you stand beneath the cathedral, the gaze seems to follow. It is designed to be inescapable.

There is majesty in standing below this painting, but also unease. The feeling of being seen is unavoidable, and with it comes both comfort and confrontation. Some may find reassurance in the idea of a protective gaze; others may feel the weight of judgment. Both experiences are valid, and both are part of the work’s intent.

The Eye of God teaches us that true vision is not selective—it sees us in our entirety, with light and shadow interwoven. To live under such a gaze is to be reminded that our actions, even the smallest ones,  echo beyond ourselves.

As the poet Rainer Maria Rilke once wrote: “Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.” To be seen by the divine may feel overwhelming, but it is also a call—to live with integrity, to embrace the fullness of who we are, knowing nothing is hidden.

 

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