Circuito Sospeso

I sign the Circuito Sospeso wallpaper the way one signs a precise gesture: a single line that never breaks, folded into a sequence of sharp turns until it draws an open, broken circuit floating in the white field without ever closing on itself. I belong to the language of Madi art, and I respect its discipline: no shading, no texture, only clean vector edges and a full band of colour running along every stretch of the line, so that the eye can follow it from tone to tone — cadmium red, cobalt blue, black, an accent of ochre — all suspended on the white.

I wanted the composition to breathe: the circuit occupies the central band, slightly tilted, surrounded by a generous empty space, while a few detached fragments of line take up its angle at the margins without ever competing with the main form. The ends slip behind their own segments, as though the structure were set in front of the wall rather than printed on it. Close up, small parallel shadows and angled planes at the joints tell of a further depth, reserved for those who come near.

In any refined interior — homes, workspaces, places of welcome — this wall becomes a fixed point, readable from a distance as from close up. This is how I understand the WallZad craft: giving a rigorous graphic gesture the matter and the care it deserves, so that the Circuito Sospeso wallpaper does not stay an image but becomes a presence.