Oil pastel

2025

The path is quiet, the air heavy with a silence that stretches beyond the edges of what we see. Around us, shadow embraces everything, painting the world in a deep, timeless blue. As we walk, the quiet feels like a memory, a space where the noise of the world fades into the distance.

In the center of it all stands the church, its white walls glowing softly against the shadows, as though it holds a light of its own. The domes, golden and serene, catch the faintest shimmer, offering a warmth that feels distant, yet real—like a quiet promise made long ago. The gold is not loud; it simply glows, sharing its warmth only with those who are open enough to see it.

The world moves around the church—silent figures of people passing by, each lost in their own thoughts, each absorbed in their own path. The shapes of these people are soft, faint outlines, as if time and memory have blurred together, and the line between past and present has faded.

The church stands at the heart of it all, not as a monument, but as a quiet witness to the world’s motion, to the passing of time. Its glowing domes are not there to guide, but to hold something deeper—something that the shadows cannot touch. It remains, a reminder that even in the deepest blue, even in the quiet movement of life, there is a light that endures—faint, yet constant.

People pass by, and the hours drift on, but the church stays, white and glowing, golden and distant. It holds within it a grace that does not rush, a presence that simply exists, unchanged, amid the world’s passing.

29.7cm x 21cm