In After the Noise, I explore what remains after a moment of intensity.

For me, silence does not mean absence. It is the space left behind when something has already happened — when the impact is over, but its traces are still present.

The composition develops through fragmented gestures, deep blacks, blues, greens and mustard-orange tones, interrupted by large areas of white. These empty spaces are an essential part of the painting: they create pauses, distance and a sense of suspension.

Across the upper section, a long ochre-orange gesture moves through the composition like a residual wave. Smaller pink marks appear almost like distant echoes, while darker areas retain the weight of something that has not completely disappeared.

I wanted the painting to exist in that precise moment when energy begins to settle but has not yet vanished.

After the Noise is about what comes afterwards — silence, memory and the traces that remain in the body and in space.

It is not absolute stillness.

It is the shape of what remains.