The sky is grey.
Dark circles make my face look tired and worn out.
Sleep lingers around me all day, and I can barely stay awake.

Spring feels like a massive wave of tiredness poured all over my body and soul.

I wonder why that happens? Does that happen to you?

Palette starts to gravitate towards spring tones: yellows, warmer browns, hints of blue and tiny little sprinkles of magenta. And yet traces of that winter heaviness still mutes the tones a bit. Like when you’ve walked into a puddle and the water takes a while to clear out after you’ve stepped away.

New beginnings

I started a new piece a while ago, and the image keeps slipping through my fingers. There is something there, lurking behind the layers of paint, but I can’t figure out what.

It is kind of reassuring, though. Some things are not meant to be discovered right away. They need time to play hide and seek.

Sometimes the images disappear and never return. And that’s their right. To vanish without a trace and leave only a memory behind.

But the movement around the canvas…
I miss it so much every day.

Sometimes I just stand in the studio and stare at the canvas longingly, when I have zero energy after a full day at my day job. But the canvas is patient.

It waits for me.

And those slow moments of exploration and wonder.

Easter comes, and I’m ready to pick up the brush and dive deep again. I’m free to play! Through all these tired weeks, tired days, tired hours, dusty streets and washed-out colors, I can feel the vibrant colors slowly approaching and appearing on the canvas.

Little by little.
One by one.

Soon it will explode into bright bursts of hope and joy.