When you turn your gaze to the forest floor, a world unfolds that does not immediately reveal itself. Between the fallen leaves, weathered branches and mossy structures, a stratification emerges that reaches further than the eye suspects at first sight. It is not a literal depth, but an abstracted space where shapes blur, colours merge and textures overlap. In this painting, I tried to capture that experience - not by rendering the forest realistically, but by translating the feeling of looking at the ground into paint, brushstroke and composition.
The chaos of nature here is not disorder, but rhythm. Each element - a smudge of brown, a patch of green, a line of black - refers to something once tangible: a leaf, a shadow, a root. Yet the whole is not meant to be an exact representation. It is an invitation to stillness, to slow down the gaze. Those who look longer will discover layers, patterns, perhaps even memories of walks, autumn light, the crunching under feet.
For me, this abstracted depth is a metaphor for how we perceive: fragmentary, intuitive, instinctive. The painting is not a forest floor, but an echo of it - a visual meditation on what is beneath us.
Every person often has several talents, but sometimes later in life the time comes to actually do something with them. This is how it happened to me. Since childhood I have always had a latent desire to draw and paint. From the age of seven, after my first.. Read more…