May Is Blowing (7)

This painting imposes itself like an inner detonation. At the center, a red and orange flow pours forth like blazing lava, reflected by undulations reminiscent of shimmering water. This breath is dense, incandescent, as if born from a heart in fusion. Around it, greens and violets gather in thick masses, giving the composition an almost forest-like depth. It is as though one were seeing a chiaroscuro where light struggles to tear itself from shadow. The striations cut across the canvas like gusts ripping through a stormy sky. The luminous bursts, at times fluid, at times sharp, tell of a struggle: that of fire and water, of heavy matter and airy breath. The eye is drawn into this luminous fissure, as if pulled toward a secret passage. This painting is not a simple spring breeze: it is a cry, a burning respiration that pierces the canvas from side to side. It evokes the raw energy of life, its inevitable eruption, and that mystery which binds us to the source.