Like in that old light her face 2026 – 29,7 x 21cm, acrylic on paper
Not remembered. Sensed.
The difference between knowing something happened and suddenly feeling the quality of the air in which it happened, the particular temperature of a moment that has no business returning and returns anyway.
The grey was there first.
This is what time looks like from the inside. Not linear, not sequential, but layered, the earlier thing still present beneath, still shaping what’s possible, while the later thing accumulates in the spaces it left open. The colour doesn’t erase the grey.
The grey doesn’t cancel the colour. They exist at different temperatures in the same surface, the way the past and present exist in the same moment of recognition.
Like in that old light. Her face. Brief, specific, gone again before you could do anything about it.