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Original artwork description
Eternal Still Life
signed March 3, 2026
acrylic on canvas · 60 × 80 cm
from the series “Kafkaesque Eternity with Flowers at 7 pm”
There are still lifes that describe objects.
And there are still lifes that describe a state of the world.
This work belongs to the second category.
I do not believe in the still life as an object.
I believe in the still life as an event.
A vase is not merely a vase — it is a center of gravity for light, memory, and the subtle accidents of matter. It rises almost translucent, like a fragile column supporting a small vegetal explosion. The flowers can no longer be identified botanically; they become gestures, fragments of a garden thrown into a silent vortex.
Green is not only color — it is atmosphere.
Turquoise becomes liquid air.
Spatters of ochre and orange are sparks of a slow combustion.
At the center of the image, matter seems to disintegrate and be born at the same time. Petals become gestures, gestures become energy, and energy becomes painting. Order and chaos constantly negotiate a fragile truce.
From this emerges the strange sensation of this still life: it is not fixed.
It is a still life with an inner motion.
The series “Kafkaesque Eternity with Flowers at 7 pm” begins precisely from this idea: ordinary objects — a vase, a few flowers, the evening light — can suddenly become the stage of a metaphysical unease. As if reality hesitated for a second before deciding what it is.
Seven in the evening is not accidental.
It is the moment when the world begins to transform. The light belongs neither to day nor to night. Contours become permeable, and objects seem to slip gently out of their own definitions.
Kafka might have recognized this state.
Not because it is absurd, but because reality, when observed carefully enough, begins to feel strange.
In that fragile interval, eternity appears — not as infinite duration, but as the intensity of a single moment.
Flowers are not immortal.
But their explosion of color can be.
Painting tries to capture exactly that second: the moment when beauty becomes unstable, and instability becomes visual poetry.
This is the eternal still life.
Not the silence of objects —
but their secret energy.
