Goatherders

Set against a sunlit field of acidic yellow, two elongated figures—part bird, part human—stage a quiet encounter where identity feels fluid and perpetually becoming. The emphatic black contours act like scaffolding for restless swathes of turquoise, magenta, and coral, letting color behave as emotion rather than description, vibrating between tenderness and theatricality. Space is deliberately shallow, yet the interlocking shapes generate a charged intimacy, as if the scene were a memory pressed flat and still pulsing at the edges. In this carnival of chroma, the work suggests metamorphosis as a state of grace: ornate, unsettled, and irrepressibly alive.