SUNSET (2022)

Mixed media, acrylic, epoxy resin, iridescent glitter on canvas The sun does not set. It overflows. In *Sunset*, the sun is not visible; it is already everywhere. Its light explodes from the lower right corner like a golden tide flooding the space—blinding yellow, dazzling white, and fiery orange. The paint flows and rises in waves of fire, swirling crests that resemble flames frozen in their most violent surge. On the left, the black of space reclaims its place. A solitary planet floats in the darkness, silent, encased in epoxy resin, a cold witness to an explosion it can neither flee nor stop. The green and turquoise sparkles scattered across the stellar background serve as a reminder that even the deepest night holds flashes of light that can only be seen when you truly look. The composition strikes a stark balance between two opposing forces: the luminous fury of the dying star and the icy peace of the cosmos surrounding it. Between the two, black and golden swirls intertwine—neither light nor darkness, but the threshold between them. Sunset is not an ending. It is the exact moment when everything shifts and beauty is at its most unbearable.