When I began working on the image of Angel A, I knew from the start: he would not be perfect.
I didn’t want to paint a beautiful, flawless figure — I wanted to create a living presence.
For me, Angel A is a being in which knowing lives.
Not the knowing of books, but the knowing of life.

He has seen light and darkness, joy and wounds, pride and vulnerability — and accepted them all.
Without resistance.
Without struggle.

There are cracks in his face, like an old icon or a beloved object that has endured through the years.
And it is in those cracks that his truth lives.
He does not fix.
He does not rescue.
He simply exists.
And in that, he offers space for an honest meeting — with your truest self.

Angel A is my living companion.
I know I will return to his image many times.
Such beings are not finished with one painting.
They live.
And they allow others to live.

When you look at Angel A, perhaps you will see not only him.
Maybe you will see that part of yourself that knows how to love unconditionally.
And perhaps you will hear that silence from which strength is born.

© Author’s note for the artwork “Angel A. The Angel of Silence”