I’ve been working on this painting for months. It began as a chaotic labyrinth of difficult lines, completely without sense. And that was fine. I wasn’t in a hurry. I told myself: I will paint and paint until I find a way out. That’s what I usually do. But this time, I didn’t want to default to the same. I didn’t want to repeat what I had done over and over. I wanted to try something different, take another direction, even though I didn’t know exactly what.

Then I read a short story written by a friend: “The Consciousness Out There.” That story made me realize that this was precisely what I was trying to invoke: a consciousness beyond, farther away, something new.

I spent months in the studio mixing colors, bringing order to the chaos, swapping one color for another, simplifying some lines, making others more complex. Then the news broke that an object from a galaxy beyond our own was entering ours. The idea of a cosmological intrusion—something new, unknown, from other galaxies—filled me with enormous inspiration. I felt an emotional, poetic connection with the cosmos.

3iAtlas became an opportunity I couldn’t miss. The canvas then became a reflection of the phenomenon, the painting a distorted, almost caricature-like image of the celestial intruder. An interpretive response to an object light-years away, one that cannot be fully seen or known.