Through March puddles to Grandma’s yard

In this work, I tried to
preserve not only the landscape, but also the mood of a life that is passing away but not
disappearing from our memory. This is my personal memory of comfort, care and authenticity, which
often lives in simple things: in the smell of potato pancakes, in the creak of old doors, in the sunlight
falling on the floor of my grandmother’s house. If a painting makes you stop, take a deeper breath and
remember your own memories, then it lives not only in me, but also in the hearts of others