Mox Nox — A Toast to the Shroud

A shrouded skull sits alone in a baron desert, haloed by an impending dusk; at its feet a single grape—bright, improbable—lies like a sacrament. The work stages a quiet paradox: a ritual of celebration folded into the grammar of burial. "Mox nox" (soon, night) presses the moment toward ending, while the grape insists on remembered sweetness, harvest and desire. The painting is an elegy and an invitation: to sip briefly from beauty before the light goes out.