My Skys series emerged from a year-long observation of the sky.
Each work is rooted in a precise moment — at sunrise or sunset — when I watch light shift and colour unfold in its most transient state.
During this period, I recorded not only chromatic impressions but also the outside temperature, tracing a direct relationship between atmospheric condition and colour intensity.
What I discovered was striking: at temperatures between minus five and minus ten degrees, the sky opened into its most powerful and intoxicating expressions. I watched the colours deepen, intensify, and expand into vast, almost overwhelming chromatic events.
These moments became a kind of immersion for me — a daily encounter with colour as a living force. A saturation. A drinking of colour.
I translate these experiences into large-scale diptychs.
Their horizontal expansion echoes the spatial unfolding of the sky — inviting both immersion and distance, as in the act of observing the sky itself.
For me, the chromatic condition of the series is twilight — not as a fixed image, but as a temporal threshold.
Morning and evening begin to mirror each other, dissolving into a continuous field of light.
What I aim for is not a depiction of the sky, but a reconstruction of its presence — a condensation of observed light into a sustained visual experience.
