Autumn Small 2 (Symphony of Color)

A solitary trunk rises like a lived-in spine through a thicket of fractured color, its branching gesture both sheltering and exposed, as if the forest were remembering itself in shards. Saturated greens and nocturnal blues press inward while eruptions of violet and ember-orange flicker like afterimages of light slipping between leaves, turning space into a pulsing, layered atmosphere rather than a fixed scene. Thin, wandering lines of paint skim the surface like nervous roots or sparks, suggesting unseen currents—growth, weather, time—threading through the visible. The work reads less as landscape than as an interior state: resilience rendered in pigment, where vitality and uncertainty coexist in the same dense, breathing field.