#67. The Story Behind ‘Gold and Silver’: An Abstract Perspective on Art and Emotion

Movement in Frozen Time

Some images seem to breathe - alive with quiet motion, as if constantly reshaping themselves. Gold and Silver is one of those works: a dance of flowing lines and textured light that unfold like a living organism. The warm golden and silver tones evoke echoes of Gustav Klimt, while the soft contrasts create a dreamlike atmosphere.

A Piece Full of Movement and Meaning

This abstract photograph immediately reminds me of Gustav Klimt, with its undulating shapes and rich metallic hues. But instead of brushstrokes, there are textures, reflections, and subtle layers - captured in a fleeting moment. It’s a piece that seems to shift meaning with each glance.|

Texture and Discovery
As a macro photographer, I’m endlessly drawn to hidden worlds - details that only emerge when you truly look. In Gold and Silver, texture becomes the main character: rippling, reflective, almost touchable. That’s the beauty of abstract art. Everyone sees something different, and every interpretation is equally valid.

How It Came to Be

I created this image during one of my most inspiring photographic years, while working on my Stardust series under the guidance of nature photographer Bart Siebelink. Although it didn’t quite fit within the theme of the series, the photo stayed with me. There was something about it - its softness, its shimmer, its quiet presence—that kept drawing me in. Sometimes, a work doesn’t need to belong to still feel meaningful.

What Do You See?

Some see tears - frozen droplets slowly softening into light. Others picture it as an album cover, full of mood and movement. For me, there’s a delicate face hidden in the top-left corner, like a silent creature quietly emerging from the image. That’s the quiet wonder of abstraction: it mirrors the viewer as much as the maker, revealing something new each time you look.

The Quiet Wonder of Abstract Macro

This image is a macro photo, and like many of my works, it began with quiet curiosity. I search for forms that seem to speak, to hold emotion or metaphor - forms that are felt as much as seen. That’s where the wonder lies: not in explanation, but in presence. What does this image whisper to you? Maybe you’ll see something I haven’t yet discovered.