Acrylic on canvas
I melted while laying on the soft, dry grass of the Velebit glade under the late summer sun.
And mountains turned into clouds, and clouds turned into mountains.
Perhaps things have always been that way.
Emotions arose from my memories. And feelings turned into memories.
Perhaps things have always been that way.
My ideas turned into pictures. And thoughts evolved into images.
Perhaps things have always been that way.
My dreams evolved into Velebit, who in turn evolved into my dream.
That is how it has always been.
