Untitled 137 (Golden Horizon)

A wide, sun-drenched field of ochre and saffron swells across the surface, its soft gradations breathing like heat-haze and turning space into an atmosphere rather than a place. Three pale, fractured forms hover near the margins—part blossom, part wing, part torn memory—anchoring the eye while resisting any single reading, as if the image is caught between emergence and erasure. The restrained dark marks act like quiet sutures, suggesting connection without certainty, and the overall radiance carries a paradoxical mood: expansive, meditative, and faintly unsettled, like joy that knows its own impermanence.