In Corde Coeli (13)

In this painting, a blaze of light ignites the canvas: oranges and reds erupt like torrents of celestial lava, carrying a raw, primal energy. Below, deep greens and marine blues form a mysterious foundation, a depth from which shadowy or root-like shapes seem to emerge, as if the earth itself is reaching toward the light. Between these two realms, flashes of violet and turquoise open passages to the invisible, reminding us that creation is never singular but multiple, vibrant, and unpredictable. The composition breathes like a luminous fracture: on one side, the solar brilliance that both consumes and illuminates; on the other, the fertile abyss that holds and protects. The eye loses itself in this tension, suspended between falling and rising, between fire and water, between shadow and glow. It’s as if the universe holds its breath at the moment of being born anew within this fragile in-between, where opposites cease to conflict and instead give rise to infinity.