In a green garden, a father kneels with both arms outstretched towards a small child supported by its mother.
First Steps, after Millet, Vincent van Gogh, 1890. Open arms. Someone believes you can.
At a doorway, Abraham rests one hand on Hagar's shoulder and extends the other outwards. Hagar looks down as Ishmael turns to leave.
Abraham Dismissing Hagar and Ishmael, Nicolaes Maes, 1653. A hand on your shoulder. You are being sent away.

Off you go, then.

everything changes.

Permission, tenderness, enthusiasm, dismissal, release. Someone believes you are ready; someone has finished with you.

Scroll to pull the two works apart. Their prominence changes as they resist and release. Further down, they snap back at different moments, then settle into a clear comparison with a reading beneath each painting. The phrase moves into the menu after a pause to read. Keep scrolling through the next phrases and their paintings. Scroll up to revisit the tension. With reduced motion, the works and readings remain still.

A woman holding flowers and a letter turns from her desk to look towards the viewer.
The Love Letter, Jean Honoré Fragonard, early 1770s. A glance over the shoulder. You are welcome here.
A soldier and a woman confront Peter, who holds his hands against his chest.
The Denial of Saint Peter, Caravaggio, 1610. Fingers point. Attention becomes accusation.

hey you.

Affection, warmth, demand, accusation, failure. Come closer. Explain yourself.

Bright butterflies float through an expansive blue and gold field above flowers and rocks.
Butterflies, Odilon Redon, c. 1910. Small wings. More space than you know what to do with.
A small steamer nearly disappears inside a vortex of sea, smoke and weather.
Snow Storm—Steam-Boat off a Harbour’s Mouth, J. M. W. Turner, exhibited 1842. The horizon gives way. You cannot find your footing.

butterflies of doubt

Anticipation, imagination, uncertainty, possibility, failure. One small shift. Everything could open; everything could unravel.

Two workers sleep beside golden haystacks, their tools resting nearby.
The Siesta (after Millet), Vincent van Gogh, 1889–90. You can put your weight down. The day will continue.
A man reclines on a damaged boat amid sharks and waves, with a waterspout on the horizon.
The Gulf Stream, Winslow Homer, 1899; reworked by 1906. The day continues. You have no say in where it takes you.

the world turns

Steadiness, surrender, drift, reassurance, unease. The world carries on. You can rest; you cannot stop it.

A woman in a pink dress swings above a hidden admirer, kicking a shoe into the air.
The Swing, Jean-Honoré Fragonard, c. 1767–68. The shoe flies. You want to be swept away.
A woman lies across a bed with a creature sitting on her torso; a horse peers through the curtains.
The Nightmare, Henry Fuseli, 1781. A weight on your chest. You cannot call it off.

overdue for a demon

Mischief, adventure, discord, dread, compulsion. Something dares you to begin; something will not let you stop.

The painter leans forward with a raised brush, holding her palette in her other hand.
Self-Portrait as the Allegory of Painting (La Pittura), Artemisia Gentileschi, c. 1638–39. The arm reaches. She determines what takes shape.
A barmaid faces the viewer; the mirror behind her shows a crowd and a man at the counter.
A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, Édouard Manet, 1882. You take up the centre. They still see what you can do for them.

formerly his secretary

Ambition, authority, ascent, baggage, humiliation. You have risen; they still make you small.

Thomas bends close while Christ guides his finger into the wound in his side.
The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, Caravaggio, c. 1601. A finger enters the wound. Seeing is not enough.
A man faces a mirror that reflects the back of his head instead of his face.
Not to Be Reproduced, René Magritte, 1937. The mirror is familiar. It has stopped keeping its promise.

nervously touching everything around, afraid the universe will disappear

Familiarity, estrangement, touch, comfort, terror. The table is still here. You need to check again.

Jupiter sits frontally on his throne while Thetis reaches up to touch his chin.
Jupiter and Thetis, Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, 1811. They need you. There is no room to be small.
A small dog’s head looks upward from a dark slope beneath a vast ochre field.
The Dog, Francisco Goya, 1820–23. You look up too. Nothing answers.

the trouble with being a god is that you have nobody to pray to

Admiration, generosity, pride, pressure, loneliness. Everyone reaches for you; you reach into nothing.

Prisoners walk in a tight circle beneath high brick walls.
Prisoners Exercising (after Doré), Vincent van Gogh, 1890. One more circuit. Make yourself fit.
A woman raises her arms before a dense crowd surging forward with tools and weapons.
Outbreak (Peasants’ War, sheet 5), Käthe Kollwitz, 1902–03; print. The body can no longer contain it.

fear is a strange soil

Obedience, belonging, resentment, defiance, eruption. You keep your place; something in you breaks ranks.

Lady Macbeth advances with a candle and an outstretched arm while two figures watch from the shadows.
Lady Macbeth Walking in Her Sleep, Henry Fuseli, c. 1784. The body goes on confessing. Sleep gives no shelter.
Pilate washes his hands over a basin as Christ is led away in the background.
Pilate Washing His Hands, Mattia Preti, 1663. The hands are clean. The harm can proceed.

guilt is the grease on which the wheel of authority turns

Shame, filth, perfection, entitlement. You feel guilty; your ego calls that permission.