In this work, the flowers are not defined; they are sensed. Yellow, like the sun filtering through half-closed eyelids, they... Read More
In this work, the flowers are not defined; they are sensed. Yellow, like the sun filtering through half-closed eyelids, they appear in a landscape that does not ask to be understood, but rather to be felt. There are no sharp contours, just as there are none in memories or emotions.
It is an image suspended between reality and dreams. An invitation to pause and let the abstract speak in its own language.
Here, blurriness is not a flaw but a mystery, and the yellow… a glimmer of hope.
