Untitled 1948

Mark Rothko made this painting with oil paint, and in it, layers of coral pink and tomato red wash across the canvas, punctuated by patches of cadmium yellow and cobalt blue. I imagine Rothko hovering over this canvas, coaxing the colors to emerge, pushing and pulling them into these soft-edged rectangular forms. You can almost feel the artist searching, right? I do. I think he was looking for ways to make color sing, to make it vibrate. Those hazy shapes aren't fixed; they're in constant flux, like memories or emotions. The way the colors bleed into each other is so gentle, yet so powerful. It reminds me of Barnett Newman’s zips; how artists are always trying to find new ways to evoke the sublime. Paintings like this can be mirrors that reflect something deep inside us. There is no one way to feel it. And that's the beauty of painting, isn’t it? It's an ongoing conversation across time.