The Garden is a strange place —  somewhat akin to the Forest, but “civilized,” circumscribed, cultivated, surrounded by fences and curlicues. Sort of melding of the Forest and human societal dances. In some respect it is a “space in between” the worlds.  Aesthetics of one’s garden are so personal: some are clean-cut, severely organized, some are wild and untamed, some are geometric, some are meandering.

The Garden that lives in my head is layered, labyrinthine, with secret nooks and paths that lead to places that you forgot long time ago. Each painting in this series is dedicated to a state of mind, a mood (see the titles and descriptions). Some moods are more general, like “Waiting”, some more specific, like “The Lost Cat” or “Friensdhips lost”. I would like to add more to this garden, with even more specific moods, like “Thunderstorms on Tuesday afternoon, May 1987” perhaps, or something like it. In any case, this series is not finished. Currently I am working on a book about the inhabitants of the Garden, but the process is still in its beginnings.