Original artwork description:

that little white house,
I was never tired of looking at her,
I went to see her in the clearing,
always alone, without fear...
Many memories in my present resurfaced
like so many blades of grass they gathered together
one by one they started knocking
in my mind they seemed to sing
"what has been has now been,
you are left with the precious memory of your past"

Materials used:

Oil on canvas

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