Works Of Art

What you see here feels like a moment from real life
that almost everyone knows,
but few can clearly describe.

You’re on the verge of doing something.
Not at the beginning —
and not at the end.
Somewhere in between.

Maybe you’re sitting in your car, the engine running,
but your hand is still on the steering wheel.
Maybe you’ve just read a message
and don’t yet know whether to reply.
Or maybe you’ve already left — a job, a place, a relationship —
and only afterward realize
that part of you is still catching up.

Jaeger feels exactly like that.

Not like a decision,
but like the split second before one.
The moment when the body already knows
what the mind hasn’t put into words yet.

The colors act like inner signals:
Orange — a quiet warning that something matters.
Black — what you deliberately keep hidden,
because it hasn’t found its place yet.
Purple — memories that aren’t finished,
that keep flickering back.
And turquoise — the brief thought:
Maybe there’s another way.

Nothing is fixed.
Everything is in motion,
just as life rarely offers clean lines.

There are no clear shapes,
because in moments like this,
you don’t see forms —
you feel moods.
Tension. Restlessness. Expectation.

This painting isn’t a destination.
It’s a transition.

The instant you realize something is missing —
not because it’s lost,
but because it hasn’t been lived yet.

And that’s why it feels familiar.
Because almost everyone stands there at some point:
Not quite here.
Not there yet.
But already on the way.

You are on the Haunting for the next what you could do if you finally choose ans not think only about it.