Josh Hernandez

As you see through me

The thoughts that burn within me

Division Of My Mind – Torn between the sharp and blurred, Loud thoughts that go unheard. Reason fights, but chaos stays, A mind in halves, a lost maze. (Charcoal on archival paper)

The Refuge — The journey of a refugee is like the flight of a bird caught between worlds, wings spread wide but tethered to a horizon that never seems to arrive. They walk through shadows, their feet worn and their hearts heavy, but within them burns a spark—quiet, unyielding. Each step is a prayer, whispered into the wind, that the brokenness of their past might be redeemed in the soil of a new land. There is a sacredness in their struggle, as though they are the vessels of an ancient migration, carrying the seeds of hope across barren fields. Though the darkness may gather, it cannot touch the light that grows quietly within, rising as the dawn rises, slow but certain.

I Would Destroy Myself Just For You — ink and charcoal on archival paper.

The Fog Rolls In — A face emerges, lost in the mist, whispers tangled in lines that twist. Eyes half-closed, a breath undone, drifting where the shadows run. The fog rolls in—soft, unclear, a fading echo we barely hear. 15x22” chalk and soft pastel on archival paper

One day

ETERNAL WIND, sold.

SOLD

This is all the true and raw footage of this piece i recorded while drawing. I named it “Revive My Soul” speaking to a deeper need in our being for more than ourselves. The sounds and chaos happening in the background are what my studio space actually sounds like, including the deep and dark atmospheric sound tracks that help me focus in on the piece but mostly the wood cabinets being sanded and cut in the warehouses next door.

From everlasting to everlasting, He stood as the shadow in the storm's eye, where the heavens cracked open and the earth trembled beneath the weight of unseen fury. Like a mountain carved from agony, He bore the wrath that was not His, a river of fire that none could withstand, yet He drank it dry. The blood-red sky, torn asunder, whispered of a silence too deep to hold—one that could only be broken by the sound of a body shattered for the broken. He became the unspoken wound, the darkened sun, swallowing every drop of justice and turning it into mercy. In that terrible grace, He was both the condemned and the Redeemer, stretched from infinity to infinity, binding the eternal past with the eternal future in one unyielding act of love. Giveaway link in bio

Ink and charcoal come together in this piece I call The Blinding Chaos.

And at once i did not know who i was