Untitled 115

A furnace of orange light holds a cluster of soft-edged planes, as if architecture and flesh have dissolved into one another mid-breath. Cool blues and bruised violets cut through the warmth like remembered shadows, giving the composition a suspended, interior depth—an intimate room without walls. The faceted forms tilt and fold toward a darkened core, suggesting a protected reservoir of feeling where clarity is continually negotiated with longing. In this tension between heat and hush, the painting reads as an emotional topography: a place where containment, rupture, and renewal happen at once.