“Two Islands”
When I was a little girl in Poland, I would sit by the window of my mother’s house and stare at these two trees. They stood quietly through every season — golden in autumn, silver in winter, and whispering in spring. To me, they were guardians of dreams, their branches always reaching for something far beyond the horizon.
At night, when the air smelled of rain and earth, I imagined what lay on the other side of the world — a city of lights and endless rhythm, where the skyline shimmered like music. New York was my faraway island, glowing in my mind like a promise.
Now, the two worlds meet on this canvas. The trees from my childhood still stand — rooted in memory — facing the dream I once painted in my heart.