Dawn of The Third Day

An incandescent breath cleaves the canvas, bursting into sprays of crimson and ultramarine. On the horizon, a circular arc rises, like a newborn sun haloed with promises. Pigments clash and embrace: fiery red ignites, violet fractures into shards, orange brightens the folds of shadow. Everything here is both explosion and genesis. Within this radiance one senses a passage: from night to day, from despair to rebirth. Each stroke of the knife becomes a heartbeat, each burst of color a song of resurrection. Matter is no longer chaos, but metamorphosis in motion. The dawn depicted here is not only that of time recommencing: it is that of the soul rising after trial. For out of every collapse a beginning can be born. And if this third day is that of rising again, it is to remind us that even in the heart of ruins, a new sun always breaks through.