Blizzard in the City” is an aquarelle filled with quiet mystery and the delicate poetry of winter. Before the viewer stretches a city street fading into the distance — yet that distance dissolves in a veil of snow and mist. The space is enveloped in a soft white haze where the sky and the ground merge, leaving no clear horizon between them.
Through this snowy curtain, the faint silhouettes of buildings and trees barely emerge — more remembered than seen. Along the street, streetlights shimmer, their warm glow blurred and diffused by the falling snow, casting golden halos against the cool bluish-grey tones of the winter air.
Snow is the painting’s true protagonist. It is alive and in motion — swirling in the air, drifting down in large flakes, settling on roofs, branches, and sidewalks. The transparent layers of watercolor capture the rhythm of the wind and the fragile stillness of the storm, as if the painting itself were breathing.
The viewer seems to stand in the middle of this street, looking into the white distance. Everything familiar — the houses, the lamps, the trees — loses its shape, and the city becomes a dream, a memory, a gentle feeling of silence and calm.
It’s more than a landscape — it’s a moment of quiet light, where reality fades into the poetry of snow.
Watercolours
£246.06
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Blizzard in the City” is an aquarelle filled with quiet mystery and the delicate poetry of winter. Before the viewer stretches a city street fading into the distance — yet that distance dissolves in a veil of snow and mist. The space is enveloped in a soft white haze where the sky and the ground merge, leaving no clear horizon between them.
Through this snowy curtain, the faint silhouettes of buildings and trees barely emerge — more remembered than seen. Along the street, streetlights shimmer, their warm glow blurred and diffused by the falling snow, casting golden halos against the cool bluish-grey tones of the winter air.
Snow is the painting’s true protagonist. It is alive and in motion — swirling in the air, drifting down in large flakes, settling on roofs, branches, and sidewalks. The transparent layers of watercolor capture the rhythm of the wind and the fragile stillness of the storm, as if the painting itself were breathing.
The viewer seems to stand in the middle of this street, looking into the white distance. Everything familiar — the houses, the lamps, the trees — loses its shape, and the city becomes a dream, a memory, a gentle feeling of silence and calm.
It’s more than a landscape — it’s a moment of quiet light, where reality fades into the poetry of snow.
Watercolours
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