Winter Dreams

Rust, acrylic, coffee, stain, paper, charcoal, felt-tip pen and oil pastel on canvas
 100x100

 Picked flowers wither, and yet they are beautiful. We cannot pick them in winter; then they remain a dream. Transience has its positive side here, too, for every winter passes. And what might happen if we didn't pick flowers, but simply watched them grow? In this work, too, I have captured the tension between transience and vitality with vibrant colors and dynamic forms. It is meant to remind viewers that change is inevitable and that beauty lies in transformation.

 The flowers of spring are the dreams of winter. Khalil Gibran