Here Comes the Sun

Here comes the sun. George Harrison sang these words after an endless winter. They have been saying the same thing forever: the light returns. It always returns.

The turquoise sky stretches out, soft and luminous, while at the horizon gold leaf surfaces in a radiant line, sovereign, overflowing. It is there that the sun arrives. It does not rise, it appears, like an evidence.

And the deep emerald blue sea receives this light as a gift. It vibrates, it opens, it carries the gold within its crackled matter.

Two infinities, sky and water, at last reunited by this golden line that runs across them.

Matter, structural plaster, acrylic, gold leaf. Wabi-sabi. To paint the return of the light. To sculpt the evidence.