There are moments when movement does not arrive suddenly —
it drifts in, barely noticeable, like a breath drawn before thought.

Breath of Spring unfolds as a gentle current. Translucent layers of light and air flow through the composition, woven with subtle golden traces that shimmer like warmth carried on wind. Nothing here pushes forward; everything glides, guided by softness rather than direction.

The work exists in a state of quiet circulation. Forms fold into one another, dissolving and reappearing, as if the image itself inhales and exhales. Light gathers in delicate pulses, suspended between motion and rest, suggesting renewal without urgency.

There is no clear beginning or end. The breath does not announce itself — it simply moves, steady and unforced. As light shifts across the surface, Breath of Spring reveals changing nuances: sometimes luminous and open, sometimes muted and inward.