Abstract oil painting

To describe a forest, is to simultaneously speak, and laugh, and sing, be quiet, run and stand still, draw and dream. There are limited ways to express beatitude, and so it goes with most of our most beloved moments. Let’s keep it out of photography, out of words, out of music or art. Let’s keep them infinite, without any descriptions.

This Pine Forest wears the idea of the pine tallness, the memory of the overlapped layers of foliage, the sound of the birds, the bold fragrance of resin and resembles the colors of the Great Tit.

In difficult times, people learn to understand themselves better and to find inner strenght, so that they can grow further.

Some get brighter, and find their freedom

Some expand, and get connected

Some get rooted, and become stable

Some reshape, and reinvent themselves

This stream of thoughts was inspired by a walk through the budding woods, once upon a rainy day in spring, watching how trees build up new growing layers.

Is it the long winter, that makes us fall in love with the miracle of the first spring flowers? Is it their fragile beauty and tiny size that make us love them? Falling in love is, in many times, a matter of contrast. We fall for the little ones, for the exotic ones, for the careless ones. Only to realize that we are so different.

First days of Spring are first days if running through the woods again after the heavy winter snow, and exploring these little jewels is connected to movement, solitude, silence and happiness.

Physcia and Xantoria are two wood funguses, and many times the only two colors you can find in the snow, in middle of the winter. Fallen branches wear them through the cold, and this spectacle is always a reason good enough to stop and watch closely, wishing I could shrink and explore their shapes even closer. One doesn’t have to understand, in order to know. To simply be aware. Of the multitude of sizes and shapes, of the complexity of this world, of the very own size and shape.

Winter walks can be a bliss. Isolated by the snow blanket, the scenery can be sometimes boring, but only to place in the spot light such a tiny wonderful micro universe.

Physcia and Xantoria are two wood funguses, and many times the only two colors you can find in the snow, in middle of the winter. Fallen branches wear them through the cold, and this spectacle is always a reason good enough to stop and watch closely, wishing I could shrink and explore their shapes even closer. One doesn’t have to understand, in order to know. To simply be aware. Of the multitude of sizes and shapes, of the complexity of this world, of the very own size and shape.

Winter walks can be a bliss. Isolated by the snow blanket, the scenery can be sometimes boring, but only to place in the spot light such a tiny wonderful micro universe.

The apple was the beginning of it all, they say. For us, this apple is the memory of a wonderful sunny day of autumn, when time stood still, so we can wander through the hills, eat red apple straight from the tree, watch the clouds move by, and forget how old we are. It was, as they say, a beginning. The beginning of a new week that followed, sunnier and happier after such a nice memory.

Everything is a beginning, for a future we are building step by step.