What do you ask for, looking into the depths of your soul?! There are no trees, wind, grass in the wasteland. But do not rush to leave here, Showing your heart your former disposition. Stop and hold your gaze. On the rare, slowly growing, but alive. Let the mind feel how pain and poison Burn in your righteous fire. And the body, cured of melancholy, Again will give the joy of Being! Have you heard the whisper of prayers since then?! Which I read for you…
Wood. Oil. 50x60 June 2024
Acquire
Not every meaning finds instant echoes in the storehouse of the soul, but everyone is given the opportunity to touch the string. The only question is who is tearing and who is trying to barely touch ?! Everything has its time and result ...