I set out to paint the quiet beauty of a winter landscape and ventured into the forest in search of snow and silence. But this year, the snow stayed away—the earth remained bare, covered only by frost. What was supposed to be a snowy scene turned into something more autumnal, an encounter between two seasons.
The cold was so intense that the colors began to freeze, and I had to apply them to the canvas with a palette knife. It was no longer possible to use a brush. What at first looked like a failed attempt soon turned out to have an unexpected charm – a raw, spontaneous beauty born of chance and the will of nature. The result was a painting like no other: fresh, original, and filled with the quiet poetry of an imperfect winter.
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I set out to paint the quiet beauty of a winter landscape and ventured into the forest in search of snow and silence. But this year, the snow stayed away—the earth remained bare, covered only by frost. What was supposed to be a snowy scene turned into something more autumnal, an encounter between two seasons.
The cold was so intense that the colors began to freeze, and I had to apply them to the canvas with a palette knife. It was no longer possible to use a brush. What at first looked like a failed attempt soon turned out to have an unexpected charm – a raw, spontaneous beauty born of chance and the will of nature. The result was a painting like no other: fresh, original, and filled with the quiet poetry of an imperfect winter.
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