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Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
“Navigation 3 – 2007” feels like a culmination—a third movement in a cycle where color and motion become the record of passage through the unknown toward inner truth. Red dominates, as if the heart of the painting beats from its core, surrounded by flashes of white, pools of yellow, streaks of black, and layered blues.
This is no longer a map, but a lived moment of threshold—where navigation is no longer about finding direction, but facing oneself. The chaos is not the opposite of order but its condition—an encoded rhythm in tangled lines that divide and unite simultaneously.
A form that echoes an eye or compass suggests conscious seeing—from within and outward. It is a moment where orientation merges with path—where “navigation” means: I am here, now, though everything trembles. Janus offers no fixed answer—only the space to sense a direction that lies beyond any map.
“Navigation 3 – 2007” feels like a culmination—a third movement in a cycle where color and motion become the record of passage through the unknown toward inner truth. Red dominates, as if the heart of the painting beats from its core, surrounded by flashes of white, pools of yellow, streaks of black, and layered blues.
This is no longer a map, but a lived moment of threshold—where navigation is no longer about finding direction, but facing oneself. The chaos is not the opposite of order but its condition—an encoded rhythm in tangled lines that divide and unite simultaneously.
A form that echoes an eye or compass suggests conscious seeing—from within and outward. It is a moment where orientation merges with path—where “navigation” means: I am here, now, though everything trembles. Janus offers no fixed answer—only the space to sense a direction that lies beyond any map.