‘Fragile Bloomscapes’ collection was born from my experience of springtime nature during the pandemic. My point of departure was 'my park'—a 19th-century naturalistic space where my family home was tucked away. I have always felt more like a dweller in this landscape than a visitor, and when it was closed to the public at the beginning of the pandemic, it transformed into a raw, undisturbed 'land of nature.'
That year, the spring came only to the park. And it came with all of its wonders. Only there I could feel spring... and the feeling was overwhelming. I began by attempting to analyze its beauty, but my observations were soon paralyzed by the thicket of branches, stems, and blossoms. All the logic got trapped, like flies in spider webs. My need for analysis was extinguished, and only then did I truly feel the nature.
My eyes got thirsty and heart curious. I started discovering a rhythmic, chaotic abundance that suggested an underlying order - a sense of the divine. This echoed the sentiment I found in the journals of John Ruskin, who wrote of encountering God through the sheer, overwhelming beauty of the natural world, a conviction that resonates deeply with the spirit of European Romanticism, which is dear to me. In that space where knowledge cannot reach, imagination takes over: we summon magic, layering palimpsests of reality and unreality.
This collection recreates that experience. I built these patterns to depict the dynamic of spring - a slow, invisible journey of growth and decay, unfolding within a harmonious, vital chaos of entanglement.
I invite you to play between the real and the surreal.
