In this work, I was thinking about a garden — not a precise place, but a feeling of it. A light, slightly playful disorder, as if different flowers are growing freely, overlapping, appearing and disappearing in the same space. There is no fixed structure, more a sense of movement and natural imbalance that somehow still holds together. I worked with a palette of pale blues, dusty pinks, olive greens and warm beige tones, allowing them to shift and interact rather than define clear forms. At moments, the color combinations reminded me of pansies, though this is more of a personal association than a literal reference. For me, it’s about that subtle recognition — something familiar, but not fully named. The surface is built in layers, with areas left visible, others softened or interrupted. Some marks connect, others break apart. I was interested in keeping that balance between control and looseness — letting the painting breathe without forcing it into a fixed image. It feels like a garden that is alive in its own way — slightly chaotic, light, and open, where forms don’t settle but keep shifting. The painting is coated with a satin varnish for protection.