Ah, what is a dream but a shadow cast by the soul upon the canvas of time? Here, the past and future collide, their whispers tangled in strokes of ochre, deep blues, and ghostly light. Movement emerges from the depths—an unseen presence, an echo of something once known but now lost in the labyrinth of memory. The lines dance, free yet deliberate, like thoughts untamed, seeking their place in the great symphony of existence. In this piece, I have not painted a scene—I have revealed a secret.