In Corde Coeli (46)

At the top of the canvas, a green and golden sky unfolds like a vibrant curtain, but it suddenly tips into dense darkness, a black mass invading the space. From this zone of shadow, brown and purple branches spread, resembling roots or frozen lightning, gradually reaching the lower layers of the canvas. There, a halo of white light opens, edged with pink and violet, like a beating heart in the midst of darkness. The tension is palpable: between the weight of shadow and the resistance of clarity, the canvas becomes a field of opposing forces. Yet from this confrontation arises a strange beauty, an intensity that transcends the eye and urges it to contemplate the mystery. The gaze cannot stop, drawn into this silent duel where neither shadow nor light fully triumphs. And if this confrontation were not a war, but a dance? A necessary dance, so that existence itself might find its balance at the heart of chaos?