"Call of the Rainbow Serpent"

I've always wanted to paint the Mona Lisa. Arguably the most important painting in history — that enigmatic smile that has watched the world for 500 years. So I finally did. But she didn't come alone. This is not a portrait. It's a vision. A dream where time folds in on itself. In the dream, she appears first — La Gioconda — emerging from the shadows, her smile just as mysterious as ever, watching as the world she once knew is held literally in our hands.

Held between two pale, devoted hands is the Earth itself, small and blue and breathing. And across its surface, rising like light, is the double helix of DNA — the code of all life, glowing. A reminder that we don't just live on the Earth, we are the Earth.

Beside her is the Seer. An Indian elder, a scientist, a mystic — his head is exploding open. Not with violence, but with revelation. Sacred geometry, crop circles, star maps, neural networks — ideas pouring out of him faster than form can contain them. He is every visionary who has ever looked too far and seen too much, his mind fracturing into constellations and equations behind him.

The crop circle in the clouds above him is his thought made visible — a message pressed into the field of reality. And below them all, answering the call, is the Rainbow Serpent. In Aboriginal Dreaming, the Rainbow Serpent is the creator, the protector of water, the shaper of the land. Here she slithers in full spectrum — blue, gold, pink — fanged, awake, and utterly alive. She is not threatening. She is summoned. She has come because the Earth is being held up, because the code is glowing, because a man’s mind has finally cracked open wide enough to understand, and because Mona Lisa is smiling at it all, as if she knew this would happen all along.

Are we witnessing an apocalypse or a genesis? Is the Serpent coming to devour or to guard? The painting doesn't answer. It just holds the moment — that surreal, electric instant before everything changes. The past (Mona Lisa), the present (the Earth in our hands), the future (the exploding mind), and the eternal (the Serpent) all sharing one canvas, one breath.

I painted this in layered oils, allowing faces to bleed into symbols, so nothing feels fixed. Like a dream you try to recall upon waking, it shifts each time you look .

For the Collector: This is a mythic painting — large, complex, and magnetic. From a distance, you see the story. Up close, you discover whole other paintings hidden inside: the geometry in the mind, the continents in the Earth, the individual scales on the Serpent. It’s for someone who loves mystery, ancient knowledge, and art that starts conversations.