The Thistles Plucker

In this painting, crimson and violet streaks rise like fiery thorns in the heart of a shifting clearing. Gentle green spreads like a meadow swayed by the wind, while orange sparks burst forth, echoing the fragile, untamed beauty of the thistle. It is a silent struggle: between caress and sting, between the softness of the plant and the fierce thrust of its defenses. The pictorial gesture, sharp and swift, seems to gather these rebellious forms to offer them for contemplation. Here, green is not only soothing; it becomes the setting of a color-bound battle. There, violet rises as a totem, symbol of resistance, while orange blazes like a breath of fire. Within this harmonious turmoil, every thorn becomes flame, every flame becomes flower. And we wonder: what do we truly seek to gather, when we approach that which can dazzle us as much as wound us?