Original artwork description:

It's 2050. Fresh mornings went away, when we were warming up with a sip of tea. The sun is a curse, the sky is not the color of the sky and golden sand has replaced the rough ground. The sun rises and wakes everyone up like a horrifying bell, an alarm. There are no more fires anymore because they have nothing to destroy, the trees become fossils and the leaves faded into oblivion. Firefighters save us, they barefoot try to stop the fireball and pretend to be able to extinguish the heat. The poor have forgotten that there is no more water ... a game of appearances is a game of delay.
This is my imagination of "Portrait from the Precipice" and I hope it's just imagination and not an oracle.

Materials used:

oil linen

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