Birth of the artist

I like coffee (black and without sugar) Therefore its overspill was like an intimate bereavement. The sludge captivated me, tacked my eyes to the table. The spillage looked so attractively, thus I took a photo and...discovered myself in the picture. The last made the dirty table into the artwork – the scruff became the artist.  



The Survivor - according to Tomas Karkalas
The pictures should look beautifully, and this shot was such in its original state. Nevertheless, I stumbled upon my own shadow. My identification attempts changed the purity of the nature into the challenge of the flower. The artwork was made.
While listening to insights, my visions obtained the words, and the colors received the need to respond- the need to quit the silence was produced.
Though some wrinkles on the surface appeared, but beauty of the flower was fortified - not something that withered up, but the survivor looks at you from the canvas now.