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Self-portait Painting Sanda Berar

Self Portrait

I turn my back on this frosty morning

Stubbornly licking my insincere tears

I am not to be comforted by the weary and old

Rude and common, threadbare in the age of riches

Stirring wind in our pots of gold

Not fit to beg on a church's steps

Not presentable enough to step out in the street

I hang my head like a child

Finding himself in the crook of an arm

His legs still kicking and raising the dust

That never settles his wild refuse I wait to be gathered in these unwanted arms

Already vibrating around me like an aura

Making the taste of my wantonness exquisite

// A poem by Oana Rusu Tomai

March 2021

Acrylic and Oil on canvas

Dreams Painting Sanda Berar


The distance between how I thought my life would be and how it came to be, I don't know to calculate it. ....

Random Thoughts: The distance of dreams (

January 2022

Acrylic on canvas

Blindfolded Painting Sanda Berar


In the country of blindness

Having eyes is serious offence

Keen eyed is advised to wear blinkers



February 2022

Acrylic on canvas 

Silenced Painting Sanda Berar


Deafening Silence (Haiku)
Quietly, I lie
In the deafening silence
As it - shouts to me.

Walterrean Salley

March 2022 

Acrylic on canvas

Hope Painting Sanda Berar


Close your eyes, see me. That’s where I hope to remain. Resting in your mind.

// Haiku, Sara J.

March 2022

Acrylic on canvas

Broken Painting Sanda Berar


She could be
the Beauty and the Beast
a Sinner or the Priest
the Hunger and the Feast
Could she be

March 2022

Acrylic on canvas

pieces of me.jpg


You don't know this new me; I put back my pieces differently 

December 2022

Acrylic on canvas paper, digitalized version

Items available as NFTs from OpenSea

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