18×18 inches
acrylic on canvas
Plus shipping and handling
Standing in front of the Brandenburg Gate felt strange in a way I didn’t expect.
Knowing the history of this place, and who had walked through it, created a weight in the air.
History wasn’t something I read about. It was right there in front of me.
It was nighttime, and the lights made the Gate glow in a dramatic, almost theatrical way.
The shadows, the scale, the silence, it all added to the feeling.
And then I noticed the damage: bullet marks still visible in the stone.
Traces of a past that refuses to disappear.
This piece is my response to that moment.
A memory of standing where history still speaks.
18×18 inches
acrylic on canvas
Plus shipping and handling
Standing in front of the Brandenburg Gate felt strange in a way I didn’t expect.
Knowing the history of this place, and who had walked through it, created a weight in the air.
History wasn’t something I read about. It was right there in front of me.
It was nighttime, and the lights made the Gate glow in a dramatic, almost theatrical way.
The shadows, the scale, the silence, it all added to the feeling.
And then I noticed the damage: bullet marks still visible in the stone.
Traces of a past that refuses to disappear.
This piece is my response to that moment.
A memory of standing where history still speaks.
