The hands open the head drops 2026 – 200 x 140cm, oil acrylic, spray paint, pencil on canvas. Private collection, Belgium
A painting built from the rhythm of passing scenes, the kind glimpsed through glass while in transit, an airport, a train, somewhere the world outside keeps moving whether or not you’re looking at it. Cream diagonals cut across the canvas like the architecture of windows seen at speed, and behind them an extraordinary crowd of flowers gathers, each one insisting on its own character. Some hold their colour at full pitch, red poppy, blue gentian, yellow gerbera. Others fade toward pencil and grey, as if the memory of them is already loosening its grip. One, at the upper left, pushes past the painting’s own edge, refusing to be held inside the frame that contains everything else.
We live increasingly through screens, glimpses rather than encounters. This painting wants to reverse that, to take something usually seen in passing and make it physical, close, demanding to be stood in front of rather than scrolled past.