Untitled 2 (A Serene Meadow)

A field of wind-pressed stems sweeps diagonally across the surface, turning the meadow into a single breath—restless, rhythmic, and quietly insistent. Against a dusk-like wash of violet and slate, the pale umbels flare as small constellations, their granular whites catching the last residue of light and holding it like memory. The composition’s tilt and layered brushwork collapse depth into sensation, suggesting not a landscape to be surveyed but a moment to be inhabited—where fragility gains strength through repetition and endurance. In this humble thicket, the painting locates a tender persistence: life bending, not breaking, under the weight of weather and time.