Untitled [plate XLIII] 1958

Joan Miró made this untitled print on paper, pulling a suite of simple biomorphic marks into a playful composition. The pink circle hovers, alive, on the surface, like a bubble, and then there's this little black blob, almost like an exclamation point. I imagine Miró in his studio, surrounded by colors and brushes. He probably started with the circle, that pink one, letting it bleed a little, giving it that raw, slightly off-kilter energy. And the way he lets the green line snake around, cutting through the pink—it’s like he's improvising, like he's saying, "Let's see what happens if I do this." It reminds me a little of Léger, but more lighthearted. That little yellow squiggle at the bottom, it's like a tiny burst of sunshine. It's all so intuitive, so free. It's like he's reminding us that art doesn't always have to be so serious, so uptight. Sometimes, it can just be a dance of shapes and colors, a celebration of the simple joy of making.