From 2025 to 2026

In a world still bruised by conflict, we carry tenderness like gold leaf—fragile, luminous, defiant.
Several years ago, an artist digitally created the image of Klimt’s The Kiss glowing against a bullet‑scarred Syrian wall.
It never appeared there in reality, yet even as a digital vision it felt like a small beacon of hope—an imagined tenderness set against the memory of ruin.
And Syria is only one among so many places worn thin by war, each carrying a tremendous human cost.

Beside this imagined glow, a little girl from one of Helene Schjerfbeck’s portraits sits in quiet concentration, bent over her dancing shoes—absorbed, unhurried, wholly present.
A small figure, yet a fine token for the year to come: the grace of beginnings, the dignity of tending to one’s own small world before stepping into the larger one.

Two forms of resilience—one radiant, one intimate—held in a single frame.

May the new year allow us both:
love bold enough to bloom even in imagined spaces of devastation,
and the steady, private rituals that help us move forward.

Here’s to 2026: to art that heals, to gestures that endure,
to the quiet readiness that carries us into whatever comes next.

And to all of you who visit this space—thank you for being here.
Your presence, your curiosity, and your kindness shape this little corner of the world more than you know.
I wish each of you a year of clarity, courage, and small, sustaining joys.