At the edge of sunset, when the air is still warm but the ground has already turned cool, a feeling of a vast temporal rupture emerges — “Midsummer.” In my work, this rupture is filled with bodies: curled up, pressed against one another, they form islands of warmth and memory. I sought to convey not only form, but also the voice of skin — its reflections, veins of light and shadow that speak of the passing day and of the unspoken. Figuration here is not merely academicism, but a tool of empathy: through flesh and bodily posture, the viewer enters into contact with a story without names, yet filled with shared humanity. Above them stretches an immense, soft cloak of lilac and rose-colored sky, as if sheltering this vulnerable communion. And within this quiet, almost sacred sleep, there is room for joy, sorrow, and hope for continuation. Midsummer is a painting about how we preserve each other’s warmth together, and how the artist’s hand can preserve a moment that is at once fleeting and