Oil on tracing paper, 

190 cm H x 100 cm W
Beaux-Arts de Paris, 


A fleeting gesture, sculpted in time.
Romuald stands—suspended, quiet, powerful.

The light isn’t added. It’s revealed—emerging through his body like breath through still water.
Ochre, crimson, and a slash of yellow vibrate together, not to describe, 
but to awaken.

This isn’t a figure held in place.
It breathes, disappears, returns.

The painting does not show.
It lets light pass through.