Mensa Lucis: A Journey to the Soul's Illuminated Space

101x101cm)

When I look at this canvas, I remember the quiet joy and the persistent whispers of discovery that guided my hand. It was a journey to capture something more profound than mere observation, to paint not just what I saw, but what I felt and believed to be true about the essence of things.

The title, 'Mensa Lucis', is deeply personal to me. It means "Table of Light," and it’s a concept that has resonated through my life and art. For me, this isn't simply a still life laid out on a physical table; it is the space within us, the inner sanctuary where thought, intuition, and truth converge. It's where the mundane items of our daily existence are illuminated by an internal glow, transforming them into symbols of meaning and wonder. Every brushstroke in 'Mensa Lucis' was an act of uncovering this illuminated space.

When I first laid down those bold, black lines, I wasn't merely outlining forms; I was defining the very boundaries of my perception, giving each object a resolute presence. It felt like etching a dream, ensuring that every fruit, every vessel, every leaf, held its own unyielding truth within the vibrant chaos. The lines are strong because the feelings behind them were strong, a desire for clarity in a world often blurred.

Then came the colors. Oh, the colors! I remember mixing those blues for the pitchers and the background, not striving for realism, but for resonance. The deep turquoise wasn’t just water; it was the quiet depth of thought, flowing and ever-present. The brilliant greens of the leaves, bursting with life, felt like an audacious breath, pushing against the edges I had so carefully drawn, reminding me that life always finds a way to flourish, even within defined structures. The yellows and oranges on the patterned table and the fruit – they were the warmth of memory, the glow of an inner sun, spreading comfort and an almost primal energy across the surface. I wanted them to sing, to vibrate with the sheer joy of existence.

And the candle, the luminous heart of 'Mensa Lucis'. As I painted its flame, I thought not just of a physical light, but of the flicker of an idea taking hold, the persistent glow of hope in uncertain times, the sudden clarity that illuminates our understanding. It’s the guiding spark, the witness to our inner world, ever watchful, ever illuminating. It's the silent testament to our capacity for insight, casting a soft, profound light on everything around it.

The fragmentation of the background and the geometric patterns on the table – they are not distortions, but rather my way of exploring how our perceptions constantly shift, how reality is a multifaceted gem. When I introduced those sharp angles and planes, I was contemplating the many perspectives through which we view life, how each moment is a mosaic of experiences. It’s about seeing beyond a single vantage point, revealing the intricate layers beneath the surface of the visible world. Each shift in color, each unexpected angle, represents a different thought, a different facet of the truth I sought to capture.

The fruit, those simple offerings of nature, are rendered with a quiet reverence. The smooth, rounded forms of the pears, the rich, deep oranges – they carry the weight of quiet abundance, a fundamental beauty that grounds the more abstract elements. They are the tangible, grounding elements in this illuminated space.

In the end, completing 'Mensa Lucis' felt like revealing a hidden corner of my own soul. It’s a space where order finds vibrancy, where a profound stillness coexists with dynamic energy. The journey from initial concept to the final stroke was filled with both the agony of wrestling with an elusive vision and the pure elation of seeing the "Table of Light" finally emerge, bright and unapologetic.