In a quiet studio tucked behind a weathered oak door, an artist known only as Mira spent her days chasing color. She believed that emotions lived not in the heart, but in hues, and if one could let go of the mind long enough, the soul would paint its own truth.
One late evening, as rain tickled the windows and music floated like incense through the air, Mira closed her eyes and dipped her brush into water, then pigment, then pure intuition. She let her hand dance wildly over the paper, untethered from thought. There were no shapes to follow, no plan to pursue. Only the moment. Only feeling.
The result was "Dreamspill."
A kaleidoscope of saturated tones, cerulean blues colliding with sunset pinks, spirals of neon green and electric gold, rivulets of violet melting into whispers of magenta. It looked as though a dream had shattered on the page and reassembled itself midair. Not abstract, not figurative, but something between, me a mirror for the subconscious.
Some say when they look at Dreamspill, they see their childhood. Others see galaxies. Some feel joy, others feel longing. That is the magic of it. It doesn’t speak. It listens.
This artwork is not just watercolor on paper, it's a moment of surrender. A spiritual burst captured in pigment. The psychedelic splashes represent that chaotic beauty which lies beneath control, when thought fades, and truth reveals itself in color.
Cote De Arts
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