Midnight Currents

This canvas is a field of quiet thunder.

Beneath its veil of luminous blues, the surface breathes like evening rain sliding down a window. Colors wander freely—crimson whispers, emerald currents, and golden sparks—each stroke a wandering thought given form.

The lines curve and cross as paths in a dream, meeting without argument, parting without regret. Small constellations of dots drift through the space, reminders that even in chaos there is delicate order.

It is not an image of things, but of moments—

movement made visible, emotion without name,

a melody translated into paint.

Here, the eye learns to listen,

and the spirit is allowed to roam.