Livia Bălan
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I gaze at the human face sealed with the mystery of birth, life, and death. I see with ASTONISHMENT my own face multiplied in that of the others. From old, saved photos I try to decipher the living faces of my dead ancestors. I attempt to restore the story of their lives from the memories of a few surviving witnesses.

Immortalized at feasts, funerals, weddings, smiling at me, gazing at me over time, from a distant time, from beyond time. I paint them hoping that I will discover something essential about myself, knowing at the same time that any possible approach would only deepen the mystery of our existence – theirs and mine.

Bucharest - an attempt at making sense of this city whose face is neither a palimpsest nor a multi-faceted image of a certain order but a jumble of violent contrasts, all vying for the center stage of our senses.
Vama Veche - the sea, the sea ... but not only. The fields streching on the shore of the sea are as vast and misterious as the sea itsef.
The portrait - selfportrait or anybody else's portrait is as vast as the sea and as complex as the city.