The Red Boats , the Cliffs and the Beach rise as inner landscapes that converse with our recent past, with man's vulnerability to isolation and with the indomitable power of his longing for freedom.

In these works, nature appears not as a simple backdrop but as a mirror of our most intimate struggles: the sea as a space of possibility, the cliff as an unyielding structure, the boat as a symbol of escape and hope.

In The Red Boats , the viewer is lifted up by a bird's eye view. From above, the horizon opens up, revealing a series of vessels sailing away towards another future. They are not just boats: they are human vessels of freedom. The boat that was once pink — a quiet hint of escape — is now red, a glowing determination to set off. The change in color marks the step from desire to action, from opportunity to sacrifice. Right there, we are reminded that freedom, so often denied, is conquered with risk and courage, sometimes at the price of everything.

In The Cliffs , the boat still appears as a latency. Its soft pink glows in the background, like a thought kept alive but still uncertain. The tension becomes palpable: to stay in a hostile country under overwhelming structures, or to venture out into the unknown to protect life and thought. The soft pastel colors soften the scene but do not hide the underlying tragedy: that of so many women and men who, at different times, have been forced to emigrate, to leave their own to find a space of peace.

The beach , in turn, offers a solitary escape over an emptied world. The bird — a metaphor for the isolated individual — looks down from above on a landscape without human traces. Sea and sand spread out, stripped back but loaded with meanings: an image of an absent humanity, suspended in the time of exception. The paths that wind over the rocks allude to human choices: some lead towards the sea, others towards the abyss, others further towards the uncertainty of the horizon.

These three works, different but connected, form one and the same manifesto. They speak of the heavy structures of society that, like colossi of stone, rise above individual life. They also speak of the boat — this fragile vessel carried by the immeasurable — as an opportunity for change, as an intimate act of resistance against oppression. And above all, they remind us that the sea, crystal clear and deep, is not only a border but also purification and consciousness: a place where the human being thinks about itself, where every wave is a call to start anew.

In a time when pandemics, wars, and hateful narratives limit our bodies and our freedoms, these paintings ask us questions. They ask us to choose: which boat will we take, which rock will we face, which sea will we dare to cross? And they remind us that freedom — this force that can move mountains — is always in motion, like the red boats that have already chosen their course.