A formal garden in which someone has swapped out a few shrubs. White and grey forms built from spheres stacked one on another stand in a regular rhythm, like clipped box. Between them rise blue cones covered with a net of cells.
The ground is warm, ochre-grey, blurred like the wall of an old building. The floor beneath the forms is pale, almost white.
The whole painting is about that one intrusion: everything else is ordered and geometric, and those blue cones match neither in colour nor in surface. I did not remove them, and that is the point.
A decorative work with unease underneath. It hangs well on its own.
Oil on canvas, 100 × 100 cm. This work has been sold; it stays in the archive to show where the paintings available today came from. Similar motifs are in the oil painting gallery.