Delectation

Some would say he’s landed in hot soup
Some would say he’s blissful

My piece reflects both the simple pleasures of life and the strange unease one feels enjoying them.

We doubt our enjoyment. We fear our retirement. We fear our age.

Food is a delight. Let’s focus on that.

The protagonist of this painting is debatable. Is it the gloriously yellow egg tart (pushing out of the foil wrapper) or the man gratuitously stretching across it? Or is it the onlooker invited to step into a pool of hot, homely, flaky and fresh…
I dream of delectation, won’t you?