In Corde Coeli (70)

A golden lake opens at the center of the canvas, radiating a gentle and mysterious light. It seems protected by a turquoise and violet arch, like a vault sheltering a secret sanctuary. Around it, greens stretch like meadows bathed in light, while reds and purples trace deep roots, anchoring the whole into the invisible earth. The matter unfolds in veins and filaments, evoking the hidden networks of life, as though the canvas revealed the intimate map of an inner world. The gaze loses itself in this alchemy: between blazing bursts and aquatic softness, the composition becomes the stage of a fragile balance—that of light settling into shadow. And if this lake of fire and light were nothing but a mirror held out to us, inviting each of us to dive within to discover our own hidden sources?