Before us is not just a canvas — before us is a living universe that breathes with yellow light.
Yellow here is not a color — it is a state. It is textured, it is layered, it breaks through the green depths like sunlight through foliage. Thousands of tiny squares pulsate on the surface like cells of a single organism, like thoughts that have taken form. This is not chaos — it is the rhythm of life, where every element knows its place but is free in its movement.

On the left, like a bolt of lightning frozen in eternity, stands a white vertical. It falls from above, widening in the sky and narrowing toward the earth, like a magician's staff, a pillar of light connecting worlds. But white knows no rest — it spreads horizontally, seeping into the yellow, reminding us: boundaries exist only for those who believe in them.

And in the center, slightly shifted, like a heart that does not beat exactly in the middle — a blue circle. It spirals, screws itself into reality, creating a vortex of time.

And here a miracle occurs: blue meets yellow, and a green glow is born. It fades into transparency, dissolves, becomes ether, but in the very core of the circle, blue gathers strength, condenses into cosmic depth, and suddenly — in the very center, in the pupil of this blue eye — purest white flares up. The point of no return. The point of beginning.

But the main thing — a white Dragon moves along the circle. Its body is the very movement of the circle. It strives to devour its own tail, and in this eternal ring lies the key to everything.

This is Ouroboros — the most ancient symbol of infinity, the cyclical nature of existence, that the end always becomes a beginning.It does not devour itself out of hunger — it closes the energy so that it does not dissipate into emptiness, but is reborn again. Its scales are white dots that, in a rhythmic dance, spiral toward the center like stars falling into a black hole to become a new galaxy.

Red flashes — rare but sharp. They are the jabs of fate, moments of pain, passion, life. Without them, the dance would be sterile. Without them, the dragon would sleep an eternal sleep.

The entire structure moves. The circle rotates, but not like a mechanical wheel — it rotates like the breath of the Universe: inhale — blue sinks into the depths, exhale — yellow bursts outward. And in this cycle, a feeling is born that time here flows not linearly but multidimensionally: past, present, and future coexist simultaneously.

This painting is not about everything ending. It is about nothing ever ending.Ouroboros swallows its tail not out of despair, but out of wisdom. It knows: to be born anew, one must die to the old. The blue circle in the center is a portal. The white vertical is a bridge. The yellow background is the light in which everything becomes visible.

And the little squares — they are us. Each in its place. Each part of this eternal dance.