Ricardo Romero Cortez Duque

The Day the Horizon Learned to Breathe / 36 x 36 / acrylic on canvas

** SOLD **

This painting begins at the edge of land, where rust-colored earth loosens its grip and gives way to water that has never learned to stand still. The sea is calm but alert, holding a thin, steady line as if practicing restraint. Above it, the sky moves in layers—blue drifting into pale light, clouds smeared like half-finished thoughts, the whole atmosphere quietly rearranging itself.

There’s a sense that something has just happened, or is about to. The land bears the marks of change—scraped, weathered, softened—while the water reflects a patience earned over centuries. The horizon doesn’t divide so much as it negotiates, teaching sky and earth how to share the same breath.

The Day the Horizon Learned to Breathe is a story about transition: the moment when holding on becomes less important than letting go. It’s about standing still long enough to notice that even the most familiar edges are alive, shifting, and willing—if you are—to meet you halfway.