This one is leaving today.
Heading to United States.
Someone saw it. Felt something.
Decided it belonged with them.
That moment—when a painting finds its person—never gets old.
There are more waiting.
**I don't sell paintings I wouldn't live with.**
Every morning I wake up to these.
Every night I fall asleep looking at them.
If they can survive my daily gaze, they're ready for yours.
Every time I pack a painting, I feel the same thing.
Excitement. Nervousness. Gratitude.
Will it arrive safely?
Will it look as good in their home as it did in mine?
Will they feel what I felt painting it?
So far, every answer has been yes.
And that never gets old.
"The varnish doesn't add anything."
It just reveals what was already there.
Blues become depth.
Whites become light.
Colors wake up.
This is the moment I wait for.
When the painting finally shows itself.
Introducing Pidgeon, a privacy‑first Nostr scheduler
