Falling Stars on RisingTowers

Falling Stars on Raising Towers
Acrylic on Salvage Wood by Isaiah Bogdanov
2025 | 3.4” x 6” – Original Available
A cosmic lament shrunk to the scale of a whisper, Isaiah Bogdanov’s Falling Stars on Raising Towers delivers a surreal vision of civilization’s ascent—watched from above, and perhaps judged, by something far older and stranger.
This nightscape, painted on a jagged fragment of salvaged wood, pulses with eerie light and quiet tension. A cluster of rising towers pierces the landscape, each glowing from within with unnatural yellow warmth—as if powered not by energy, but by something more ghostly. Their symmetry is unsettling. Their ambition, unmistakable.
Above them, stars tumble from the sky like celestial debris. Dozens of them—streaking downward in silent arcs—suggest a sky in collapse or sacrifice. These aren’t shooting stars making wishes. They’re falling, retreating, being pushed from their rightful place.
And high above it all floats a single, disembodied eye—watching.
It hovers in the dark, lidless, impartial. Whether it’s divine, alien, or symbolic is left unanswered. But it sees everything. It watches the stars fall. It watches the towers rise. It watches us, too. The effect is unsettling—not because the eye is angry, but because it isn't. It simply observes, recording a tragedy we may not even realize we’re part of.
“It’s about our failure to ask what we’re replacing,” Isaiah says. “We build and build and think we’re progressing—but we don’t notice what’s leaving us.”
The piece’s scale—just over 3 by 6 inches—forces intimacy. You have to draw close, lean in, and in doing so, enter its dream logic. The textured wood grain shows through the paint, reinforcing the idea that this image is rooted in something forgotten, something discarded. The brushwork is careful but expressive, with yellow and white accents glowing like fireflies trapped in a jar.
Falling Stars on Raising Towers is both elegy and warning—a surreal moment frozen in time that asks what we lose as we chase the artificial light of man-made towers. It is about ambition without reverence, cities built over silence, and a sky no longer ours.