In the city, paintings are given high up in the sky, away from the eyes of the many. They are enjoyed by birds, clouds, the wind. And there, I secretly look at them.
Here, there is a neglected world that plays with the light of the storm, with the wind of the night that whispers, with the blazing sun of summer. Color is present here with small and arrogant brushstrokes, light that hides in shells, that blinds you when you stare at it head-on. How dare you?
In this world of silence and tranquility, where time seems to have frozen and things keep a distance from your daily life, your own ephemera that doesn’t concern them, here is the opportunity to behold the blue hidden within you.
Here, there is a neglected world that plays with the light of the storm, with the wind of the night that whispers, with the blazing sun of summer. Color is present here with small and arrogant brushstrokes, light that hides in shells, that blinds you when you stare at it head-on. How dare you?
In this world of silence and tranquility, where time seems to have frozen and things keep a distance from your daily life, your own ephemera that doesn’t concern them, here is the opportunity to behold the blue hidden within you.
