Red Ix (City at Sunset)

A field of ember-orange saturates the surface like heat held in memory, against which splintered whites and charred umbers fracture into a half-built horizon. The composition reads as an urban or industrial silhouette glimpsed through turbulence—lines scored and scraped as if the scene were excavated rather than painted—so that space becomes both atmosphere and abrasion. Light behaves here as a volatile substance, flashing in sharp facets before dissolving into soot and stain, suggesting creation and collapse intertwined. What remains is a tense, cinematic afterimage: the psyche of a city at dusk, suspended between ignition and ash.