Today on the blog, I want to talk about this piece, a work that holds a very special meaning for me. It comes from a creative moment when I felt the need to slow down, to listen more than to act. Some processes don’t start with a clear idea, but with a vague feeling that asks for attention. It might be a texture in an image, a piece of a branch collected on a walk, a memory suspended in time. It is from these subtle, almost imperceptible impulses that an artwork is often born.
In this case, it all began with a feeling of change. Not a sudden change, but a slow one, like the one that autumn brings: when the light becomes softer and things seem to breathe differently. I was interested in capturing this transition, this in-between state where nothing is quite what it was, yet not entirely new either. I'm drawn to the moment when nature sheds its excess and is reduced to the essential—falling leaves, fading colors, cooling air. It is a time for interiority, for returning within, for listening to what usually remains silent.
This was the seed that gave rise to All That Returns Within. The creative process was slow, built of layers, experiments, and intuition. I am interested in the meeting point between the spontaneous gesture and conscious construction; the moment a mark becomes a meaningful shape. Often, while I work, I don't think about representing anything specific, but rather about finding a balance between presence and absence, between what appears and what is merely hinted at.
In this piece, deep burgundy and blue tones intertwine with glazes of soft ochre and areas of translucent white. Together, these colors create an atmosphere that is calm yet full of inner life, as if they were breathing slowly. Burgundy always brings me back to the earth, to what is rooted. Blue, on the other hand, opens up a more ethereal space of thought and breath. Ochre adds a warm light that connects with the skin, and white is the pause, the space that allows everything to breathe.
In the process, there is a part I decide and another I let happen. Often, an accidental shape becomes key: a line that recalls a branch, a stain that looks like the imprint of something no longer there. This constant dialogue between chance and intention is what keeps the piece alive as it is being made. That is why I like to think there is no single possible interpretation: each person can find their own story, their own emotional connection within it.
For me, All That Returns Within speaks of this return to an inner space. Not one of confinement, but a place of calm and depth. It is an invitation to look without haste, to let your gaze rest. In a world that often pushes us toward action and noise, creating (and contemplating) becomes an act of resistance. While composing this piece, I understood that calm is not the absence of movement, but its own rhythm, slower and closer to what we find in nature as autumn approaches.
I like to think that when observing the artwork, you can also feel this gentle breath, this space where shapes, colors, and time seem to be suspended for a moment. Every mark, every line, every trace is a way of saying without words what is hard to explain with them: the desire to return to the center, to inhabit the essential.
I invite you to explore this work in more detail, to let the color and texture speak to you in their own way. Perhaps you will find a fragment of your own silence, a form of calm that also returns within.
