The Intersection of Art and Nature: Finding Inspiration in the Changing Seasons

Nature has always been my silent partner in the studio. It’s the original architect, the ultimate colourist, and a source of reliable patterns in a world that often feels chaotic. For me, the natural world isn't just a subject to be copied; it’s a framework for understanding change, progression, and the search for inner balance.

When I create, I’m often trying to freeze a moment from a much larger cycle. My background in civil engineering taught me to appreciate structure. You might think concrete and steel are far removed from the delicate world of fineliner drawings and resin, but they share a common foundation: a framework that holds everything together.

When I moved from Romania to Germany for my engineering career, I left behind my friends, my family, and everything familiar. During that time of radical change, art became my anchor. I found stability by observing the natural world. Nature can appear chaotic—a tangle of roots, a storm of leaves—but if you look closer, you'll find it’s built on rigid, beautiful geometry.

I see this geometry everywhere: the spiral of a snail shell, the radial symmetry of a flower. In my work, I combine these geometric shapes and patterns with floral or animal motifs. It’s my way of making sense of the world, alternating between the realism of the subject and the abstraction of the feelings it evokes. This duality—the engineer's precision meeting the artist's fluidity—is a visual metaphor for finding control within freedom.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on the foggy mornings we’ve had. Even though snow hasn’t fallen in the past few days, the cold nights combined with sunny days have brought thick clouds of mist. Yesterday, as I rode up a hill through one of these fog clouds, I couldn’t see much ahead. Yet, when we reached the peak, we were standing in bright, clear sunshine, looking out at a sea of fog blanketing the world below us. It was humbling, a reminder of the inner state of doubt we often experience during life’s uncertain moments. Just like in the fog, you can’t see where you are or what lies ahead, but you trust that there’s a path leading out of it and into clarity. These moments in nature, where the external world mirrors the inner world, are the foundation of my art. They resonate not only with me but also with the people who connect with my work, because they reflect shared human experiences—universal, collective, and deeply familiar.

The changing seasons also deeply influence my creative process, altering the light, texture, and my mood.

Spring is about new beginnings, but for me, it’s about lines. The skeleton of the world is dressed in new growth, and the sharp, clear light translates into high-contrast fineliner work. I focus on the intricate details of buds and emerging life, representing growth and potential.

Summer brings the "golden hour," when the light becomes warm and heavy. This is where my resin pouring technique shines. Resin mimics the fluidity of water and the gloss of summer heat, allowing me to layer colours and create a depth that fineliners alone cannot achieve. These pieces are bold and intense.

Autumn is a season of texture and transition. The palette shifts to ochres, rusts, and deep greens, inspiring me to explore texture through rougher paper or different resin layering techniques to capture the feeling of dry leaves and brittle branches. It's a time for maturity and reflection.

Winter strips everything back to the essentials. The world becomes a study in black and white, much like ink on paper. This season drives me toward minimalism and stark geometric patterns, creating artwork that is quieter but more profound.

Art helps me communicate on a deeper level, depicting the whole range of feelings I experience. It gives me a sense of control, especially when life feels unpredictable. Nature works in the same way. It is wild, yet predictable in its cycles.

For me, nature is the ultimate teacher of patience and perspective. Whether it's the sharp line of a pen tracing a leaf, the deep gloss of resin capturing the summer light, or the humbling experience of standing above the fog, I’m just trying to hold onto a piece of the world’s magic and find my balance within it.

As the year winds down, I’m taking some much-needed rest to recharge and reflect until the beginning of the new year. The blog and creative adventures will resume then, with fresh ideas, insights, and inspirations to share. Thank you for being part of this journey—it means more than words can express. Until then, I wish you moments of stillness, clarity, and warmth this season. See you in the new year!