After Van Gogh, the iris theme became both popular and dangerous at the same time. Popular — for reasons obvious to anyone who has ever admired their proud silhouettes and luminous petals. Dangerous — because every iris painted since is inevitably compared to those immortal blooms, as if under their shadow.

For a long time, I circled around the idea, asking myself if I could speak in my own visual language, free from direct reference, yet still honoring the beauty of the flower. Here, I found my answer: a burst of freshness, as if the first warm breath of spring and early summer had splashed color across the watercolor paper.

The petals — in shades of violet, blue, pink, and cream — are painted as living things, carrying the moisture of the morning air. The green leaves rise like guardians, their edges kissed by sunlight, while the background flows in watercolor splatters — a celebration of movement, life, and renewal.