Elysian Fields

This painting vibrates with aquatic lightness, like a field of reeds or wheat swaying in the wind. The elongated strokes, traced with the knife, rise and then bend with suppleness, evoking at once supple stems and feathers brushed by a breeze. These fine lines, nervous yet airy, are the very veins of movement: they capture the direction of the invisible breath, giving matter its momentum. Each striation is like a thread of light, a vein linking earth to air. The deep blues of the background envelop the scene in a celestial or marine setting. They contrast with the golden, green, and orange bursts of the “stems,” which become dancing flames or sprays of life. Scattered red touches punctuate the whole like flowers or vibrant notes. This painting suggests a serene Eden, a place where nature and breath merge. The knife’s striations, far from being mere technical marks, here become language: they speak of suppleness, fragility, and the beauty of perpetual movement.