Morning. Fog

"MORNING. Fog" 35x50x2cm . Canvas on a stretcher, oil, brush. It's not too early in the morning, but the fog hasn't dissolved yet. And we observe a wonderful picture of a horse quietly grazing the grass and not even looking in our direction. How I love this mystical peace of an autumn misty morning. It's always a little sad when autumn comes. But with it come these frozen and fresh foggy mornings, when everything around seems to fall silent and holds its breath... And you sit wrapped in a blanket and just look out the window, mesmerized by the beauty of silence. And it is impossible not to love such an autumn. "Autumn is like a book that has already been read, but has already been forgotten — every page is about what you know and what you vaguely remember, every page is a return to where you have already been. From now on, the nights are filled with the sound of rain, the mornings smell of exhausted, but not yet cooled earth, the sun, having lost all its decorous slowness, fussily glides along the edge of the sky, not rising above the hills — the time of the sun is gone, other people's times have come" /Narine Abgaryan/