An incredible event happened to me. Incredible in its beauty, its strength and its power. An event that required silence and a rethinking of oneself.
Armenia happened to me. It happened very on time and very not by chance (like all the important things that happen to us)
Ancient, majestic, proud land. The ocherous colors of the valleys scorched by the sun, the deep colors that go beyond consciousness, the colors of millennial stones from which temples are piled or carved directly into the rock body, and the voice pouring in gold under the vaults, singing prayer in ancient Armenian, and the gold of candles, their quiet radiance, reflected in water, cochineal and ultramarine on centuries-old manuscripts - Relics of the Family, carefully passed down from generation to generation, juicy ruby cores of pomegranates, pure bright tones of people .. How many epithets are inside me, but I still want to keep silent about it. To keep this feeling of Miracle inside.
Do not splash.
Shift everything to the last drop on canvas and give others the opportunity not only to see, but to feel the beauty of this land and this people. Give others the opportunity to want to get there.
