Year: 2006
Dimensions: 195 x 162 cm
Technique: Oil on canvas
The alchemist does not look at us. He looks at what he is becoming. Around him, the transformation is already underway—blue flesh turns to water, water turns to light, light turns to something that has no name in any language we have been taught. The angels are not messengers. They are witnesses, perhaps, or accomplices, or simply the shapes that matter takes when it decides to become spirit.
At the center, a child. Or not a child—an egg, a promise, a beginning that has not yet decided what it will be. The triangle holds it like a nest, like a womb, like a question that does not require an answer.
Everything is in motion. Nothing is finished. The painting does not depict a moment; it depicts the space between moments—the breath before the word, the pause before the change.
The alchemist knows that gold is not the goal. The goal is the transformation itself. The goal is to become, and to keep becoming, until there is nothing left to change.