VIEW IN MY ROOM
A place of thought, emotions, dreams, images, perhaps even the awareness of our being men. The softer colors are interrupted within the strength of the brighter colors, in a slight degradation from sky to earth. From land to sea. a boat like a black blob. A way to escape or a way to stay inside the sea that is tinged with orange. And red. Life is made of colors in an incessant race in search of what we belong to. But is there an end to the race? Original Abstract Oil on Canvas 320 g /m2, fine grain, 100% Belgian linen. Format 50×61 cm. Extrafine fine pigmented colors Mussini, M. Harding, Old Holland, Maimeri Pure. Cold Wax Jacquard Dorland's. Pastel Unison. Signed only on the back by the author with certificate of authenticity and personal identification hologram of the artwork.
Painting:Oil on Canvas
Size:19.7 W x 24 H x 0.7 D in
Ready to Hang:No
Packaging:Ships in a Box
Delivery Time:Typically 5-7 business days for domestic shipments, 10-14 business days for international shipments.
Handling:Ships in a box. Artists are responsible for packaging and adhering to Saatchi Art’s packaging guidelines.
Customs:Shipments from Italy may experience delays due to country's regulations for exporting valuable artworks.
From my website: Yurei is the name chosen to sign my works of Figurative Art. I don’t perceive it as a coincidence, even if everything in my life first appeared in a game shape . “Just for fun” was also my approach to painting: a long period of convalescence, longing for “something in common” with the one beside me, the curiosity to try my hand at a language that had always fascinated but at the same time scared me; the inability to tell using the brushes, and the colors – I have always been in love with black and white -, and the strokes on the paper, the things that pressed inside me and needed to come out. Even more at that time, because they were days in which I was strongly experiencing the after-effects of a hospitalization that showed its unespected disabling profile. On my birthday I gifted myself a small set of watercolors, the cheapest of the brushes, a pad of paper. Nothing more to find again that “inner child” who took me by the arm along my exepriences with Theater, Writing, Photography, and which I was slowly returning to caress. I began to recover. Watercolours, brushes, paper; they all became crutches. The days were no longer “infinite”. I started walking again. No destination. But I was walking. And as life sensed the rustle of footsteps, the slow pace of walking, the adagio on the ground, revealed unknown obstacles and let them appear before my tracing a path. They lead me. I started looking through a new gaze and I touched the essentiality within which I put back together pieces of my days , thrown away randomly by that something “unexpected” that forced me like laces on the wrists, arms, feet, in a huge sea without shore: my dearest ones, my being what I love, my art. “art” that slowly moved towards its noblest, most ancient meaning again: the art of the farrier, the carpenter, the accountant, the comedian, the painter. Craft. I had no “shop” where to train. The stage only. And my Masters. Without ever telling me anything. But in their silence and in my gaze, they conveyed a being Theater that I found every day among uncertain brushstrokes and invented colors, curiosity, a never-sated “depth”, a desire to make mistakes always in a different way. The need to say, beside. The “inner child”. A man who tells stories by profession and has a neverending curiosity as a tool. Thus, Yurei was born. And I keep travelling, cuz each new day, is not over yet.
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