It is a painting accompanied by a poetic situation exploring quiet resistance to emotion. It captures a fleeting moment when a person tries to remain in control – pretending not to be drifting into sleep, denying the glint of a tear in the eye. The gaze turns to the side, cheeks are faintly flushed – subtle bodily cues that reveal what the words try to hide.

Alongside the painting, a short dialogue emerged – half inner monologue, half imagined conversation. It speaks of a sorrow we don’t want to admit, a compassion we are ashamed to show. A lonely apple seller with sad eyes. We feel his heaviness, but we don’t dare say it. So we buy all the apples – just to avoid looking into those eyes again with hope those eyes will brighten up.

The work may appear abstract at first, but the essence lies not in what is seen, but in what is withheld. It’s about the vulnerability we try to hide – even as it inevitably surfaces. Even when we say: I wasn’t sleeping. I didn’t cry.

– what was your dream?
– when
– now
– I wasn’t sleeping
– why did you twitch then?
– I thought about something
with closed eyes: the trees
with forever entwined roots
until they dry out sucking
each other’s sap
– like nuts?
– like gnats

– is that why you cried?
– I didn’t cry
but was so sorry for those sad eyes
of a lonely apple seller
I saw passing by
with a red bag…
– like your cheeks?
– …on his laps
he says a kilo I say
ok I take it all
for not to see
his eyes again

50×70×2 cm

acrylic, graphte, lacquer on canvas