n “Own Your Destiny,” Mihai Mârza positions the figure of a conductor at the center of a storm—not of sound, but of self. The canvas becomes a stage of psychic turbulence, where color and gesture swirl in a visual symphony of fractured will and desperate control. The conductor, traditionally a symbol of order, mastery, and calm authority, is here engulfed by chaos. His arms blur into echoing lines, his posture fragmented by rhythm rather than command. Instead of orchestrating harmony, he appears to be battling it—grappling not with instruments, but with the intangible storm within. Mârza’s brushwork is both lyrical and frantic, suggesting movement that is both precise and on the verge of collapse. Vibrant reds, cobalt blues, and electric yellows crash and converse across the canvas, creating not a melody, but a dissonant pulse—a visual heartbeat caught between fear and resolve. The composition is layered, circular, almost hypnotic, pulling the viewer into the conductor’s crisis: the tension between control and surrender. “Own Your Destiny” is less about power and more about permission—the brutal courage required to claim authorship of one’s own life while the internal orchestra plays out of tune. It is a meditation on chaos as a necessary collaborator in creation, and on the uncomfortable truth that leading yourself requires first surviving yourself. With this work, Mârza extends his ongoing dialogue between identity and movement, turning the act of conducting into a metaphor for becoming. It is a painting that doesn’t ask for stillness, but for presence—inviting us to take the baton even as the room spins.