Yet at some point, the snow falls. Spring is over. Break up is icy, yet nostalgic in its cold detachment. The bitter awareness of an ended love that leaves behind its footsteps remnants of memories is personified here by the blob of red pigment placed at the bottom of the work. A bloody indication of something gone wrong, of a love that is no longer love. Perhaps affection, that certainly . A relati onship that has certainly lost the luster and vitality of what it was. And so it is that, the two figures once embraced, now find themselves back to back. Between them the unbridgeable, the abyss. Cracks in the color unravel from the center of the composition separating the bodies more and more. The oil color does not lose its vitality, but is transformed. The pink, warm and orange tones give way to an extremely acid and pungent chromatic palette. Yet there is nothing dull, nothing dead. In the air there is nothing but nostalgia and fragments of life spent with the person once loved. A bitter smile spreads across lips.
