Works Of Art

In this work, I set out to create a space that exists somewhere between reality and memory—an inner retreat, quiet and untouched.
At first glance, the scene may seem peaceful, even idyllic: a sunlit meadow, soft riverbanks, trees in full bloom.
But if you linger, you begin to sense that something is slightly out of reach.

Nature here feels dreamlike—filtered, almost artificial, as though seen through the lens of a distant memory or a passing thought. In the background, a dark shape emerges: it could be a forest, a structure, or simply the edge of consciousness. A boundary between the visible and the hidden.

With movement in color and stillness in form, I wanted to evoke the feeling of longing—for calm, for connection, for a space where one can simply exist, without demand or definition.

This piece carries something soft, but not fragile. Quiet, but not silent.

When I first showed it to a friend, she began to cry—not from sadness, but from recognition. She said it touched a part of her she didn’t know needed healing.

And that, to me, is the quiet power of art:
To uncover what we’ve buried.
To remember what we’ve forgotten.
And sometimes, to gently stitch back what was once torn.