The search is the virtue with which this striver tries to relieve his own struggles. If he was weak or strong, maybe only posterity, the implacable imprinting machine of time, will determine. One thing is worthy of recognition, that he did not give up neither when he was weak nor when he was strong and at the balance between the two states that came close to half a century of struggle, the drama of passion raged.

      A chromatic symphony in which the play of color spots, the immortal waltz that wanders the eye, sliding it on the labyrinthine mixture of states visualized in the cough stretched hard on the naked and fragile thigh of the linen cloth, this brutal and erotic game of color fascinated the imagination making it run restlessly like a river springing from the brush of an eternally restless. A flow of exhaustion that flows slowly in the sea of ​​silence, healing through exercise the state of struggle, of the existential crisis of this dramatic painter.

      The image of an interior, of an interior where the volcano of daily boiling sometimes erupts with the intensity of a cyclopean force. The waste of color in the scattering of a whole that gradually found itself in detail, fragment by fragment, idea by idea, sunset with sunrise, death with life. This is Simion Muntean, from a family of 10 brothers, born in Oncestii Maramuresului, Romania.