Sunny

There are days when the light is not content to illuminate. It catches fire, it invades everything, it burns without asking. Sunny is one of those.

Orange dominates, frank, ardent, almost insolent. It is the colour that fears nothing, that does not apologise for existing. It occupies the canvas as the sun occupies the south, without sharing.

And then there is the violet. It rises from the ground, dense, deep, like a double bass beneath a trumpet. It does not fight the orange, it supports it. It gives the fire its depth, the joy its gravity.

The matter keeps the traces of the gesture. The plaster surfaces, the marble powder catches the light, and the surface vibrates with a life that overflows.

It does not tell of a landscape. It tells of an energy.

Matter, structural plaster, acrylic, marble powder. Wabi-sabi. To paint the raw energy. To sculpt the passion.