MY LIFE IS

TO DIE EVERY

SECOND

AND

REBORN

IN NEW

COLORS

WELCOME

TO

MY CLOUD

The Artist


The Aesthetics and the

missing
home

To paint is to write
a letter of longing.

And, as the words don’t
live inside, colors are
on the outside.

But when will the paints,
colors, and pains, make
way for freedom?

food for thought


share the vibe


Select an image and send your postal card!