I painted The Weight of the Heat in response to a growing heaviness, not just in the skies above burning forests, but in the silence that follows. The climate is no longer a distant storm; it burns at our feet. Though I often paint water, this fire demanded space on the canvas. I turned to primary colours, the most honest I know: red that rises like smoke through the chest, yellow that flickers and cuts, blue that holds its breath. Together they shape a flame that feels less like destruction and more like a warning, one we've waited too long to hear. This painting carries the weight of our delay. The brush moved slower than the heat it tried to catch. In every stroke, I felt time stretch and snap. The Weight of the Heat is my attempt to hold that tension: between urgency and stillness, between nature’s voice and our failing echo.