Sunset

I don't paint a body, I paint the effect of the light on it as it starts to fade. 

In “Sunset,” features are transformed into color spaces, and the body becomes a fluid memory between dusty yellows and deep reds. The blue background is not a sky, but the silence that surrounds the moment of transition - the moment when we are neither fully day nor fully night yet. 

The yellow circle is neither a throat nor a sun. It is the last flash of consciousness before everything dissolves into color. It is the question: are we disappearing, or are we transforming?

The painting does not ask to be understood, but to be lived. To stand in front of it as you stand in front of a sunset: No explanation, no rush, just full presence. 

The abstraction here is not an escape from reality, but an approach to its essence. When the details fall away, the feeling remains. Color remains a witness to all that is unsaid.