Light does not illuminate the painting.
It pierces through it.
This displacement changes everything.
Painting ceases to be a surface and becomes a field where something happens.
For a long time I worked with light as an effect. Something constructed through color, suggested, represented. But at some point, that was no longer enough.
Light began to behave differently.
When the canvas does not block completely, when matter stops covering and starts filtering, light is no longer outside. It enters. It blends. It acts.
Color no longer describes.
It activates.
It appears in depth, not on the surface. It turns on and off according to intensity, the time of day, the position of the body.
The work is not stable.
It changes.
And in that change, something appears that I do not entirely control. Light introduces a variable I cannot fix. It dismantles what seemed resolved. It sets the painting back into motion.
That is the point.
The painting stops closing in on itself. It depends on something that exceeds it. It becomes permeable, vulnerable, open.
It is not an image.
It is a situation.
A zone where matter and light do not fully organize, but do not dissolve either.
They hold each other in tension.
And in that tension, the painting begins to happen.