Works Of Art

Is it a map?
A memory?
Or just a trick of color pretending to know the way?

Wanderer doesn’t offer answers – it hints, it plays.
It opens a path, just one, and only for a moment.
Where it leads?
That’s not for me to say.

There’s rhythm in the lines, like footsteps across shifting ground.
Color becomes terrain, emotion, echo.
Somewhere between red and blue, something moves – or waits.

The colors speak in layers:
Red hums, as if something once burned.
Green feels its way forward, like moss growing softly over stone.
Sky blue appears like breath between the lines – a quiet reminder that spaciousness is always possible.

I didn’t paint a destination.
Just a beginning.
A first step placed quietly,
for anyone curious enough to follow.

The wanderer might be the one who looks – or merely a shadow that fades the moment you try to hold it.

Whatever you see here was already yours.
I’ve only set the first step.