Why I Keep Painting Apples, Birds, and Clocks

Knowing

If you have looked at my art and wondered, “ Wait… is that another apple?” — well, you are right. I have a habit. I use certain symbols over and over again.

I am not alone in this — many artists have their favourite “visual vocabulary.” Marc Chagall filled his dreamlike paintings with floating lovers, roosters, and fiddlers. René Magritte had a fascination with bowler hats and floating apples. Salvador Dalí loved clocks so much that he portrayed them melting. And closer to home, my dad was devoted to concentric red, white, and blue circles — his personal emblem of freedom. These repeating symbols are like an artist’s signature… but in code.

So, here is a quick decoder for some of my favorite symbols.

🍎 The Apple. For me, the apple symbolizes knowledge — the desire to know, to see, and to understand. However, it comes with its risks. Truth can be tantalizing, but it may also be sharp around the edges. Think of Eve, but with less snake drama and more curiosity.

🐦 The Bird. Ah, freedom on wings. The bird in my work represents movement without restrictions — both physical and mental. It embodies the soul’s urge to “Spread your wings and seek freedom.”

⏳ Clocks & Hourglasses. I have an obsession with time. Not in a punctual sense, but in the idea that time is precious. The clocks in my paintings serve as reminders that life is finite, and each day matters. Plus, they add a beautiful element to surreal landscapes.

👁 The Eye. This symbol is my inner compass, my symbol of consciousness. An eye in my art isn’t about “Big Brother” spying; it is about your own watchful awareness, guiding you toward what matters most.

🦋 The Butterfly. The butterfly is the ultimate reminder that beauty is fleeting. It is delicate, it is

short-lived, and worth appreciating while it lasts, much like that perfect cup of tea before it goes cold.

Now that you know my secret code, take a stroll through my artwork on my website and see what you can spot. Here’s your challenge: if you think one of my symbols means something completely different, let me know! I love hearing fresh interpretations — sometimes you see things in my work that even I didn’t know were there.

Confessions of a Paper Architect

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine presented me with an artistic challenge: “Why don’t you explore architectural styles and reinterpret them in your art journal?” That was all I needed to ignite my imagination.

I have always loved conceptual art—just give me an intriguing prompt, and I am off on an adventure

in my creative universe.

The first step was research—learning about various architectural styles and their key visual elements.

I revisited the delicate and ethereal features of Gothic cathedrals and paintings, the swirling ironwork and floral forms of Art Nouveau, the dramatic opulence and ornamentation of the Baroque era, the playful rebellion of Postmodernism, and the clean lines and calm elegance of Mid-Century Modern design.

I didn’t want just to copy these styles; I wanted to capture their true essence in a mixed-media story.

Next came the treasure hunt. I flipped through stacks of magazines, hunting for special details.

It’s amazing how your perspective shifts once you embark on a mission; your eyes start to see architecture everywhere.

I decided that each collage would feature a central figure—an image that, in my mind, encapsulated the key visual elements of a particular architectural style. This character would inhabit the imagined space and represent that style. Once I began assembling the collages, I found it hard to stop. The process was both playful and meditative, obsessive and joyful.

The result is a series of five collages, each a tribute to a different style.

You can find the images in my blog, and if you’d like to see them come to life, I’ve also uploaded

behind-the-scenes videos on my Instagram, where you can witness the creative process.

Visit my Instagram to see the reels at @follhelena.

So here they are—five eras, five visual stories, all crafted with glue, paints, and magazine clippings.

And if you ever find yourself in need of inspiration, try giving yourself a quirky challenge; you never know what might emerge.

And finally, a big shoutout to my wonderful friend Jane, who planted the seed for this paper adventure. Thank you for the challenge, the inspiration, and the joyful descent into architectural daydreams!

What We Keep And Why

My antique fan collection

The other day, I found myself in this cozy little library that was absolutely buzzing with joy. A group of collectors had gathered, proudly showing off their treasures: stamps, postcards, badges—you name it! These tiny slices of history were carefully preserved in albums and boxes, and watching these passionate individuals share their stories was a real delight. It felt like stepping into a time warp where everything still had value and meaning.

I often think about why people collect objects. There is something almost rebellious about it in today’s world. We are told to declutter, let go, embrace minimalism, and throw everything away. We live in a throwaway culture, where objects don’t last and are easily replaced. Yet here we are, some of us still lovingly sorting through our collections, dusting shelves, and flipping through album pages. Isn’t that a bit wonderful?

As for me, I collect fans—not the kind that follow my work on Instagram, but delicate, hand-painted ones. Some are centuries old. Each fan in my collection has a story to tell, a little echo of the past that connects me to history and to people I will never meet. When I look at my fans, I wonder about their stories. "Did someone cry behind this one? Did someone laugh or meet their soulmate while holding it?"

We live in a world that moves fast and forgets easily. But collectors? We remember. We honor the old, the odd, and the beautifully unnecessary. Whether it is a fan, a stamp, or a postcard, we say, “You matter. I’m keeping you.” Maybe that’s why collecting feels so uplifting.

So next time you see someone lovingly holding a rusted tin toy or an old postcard, smile. They are not hoarding—they are dreamers. And if you ever want to talk about antique fans, you know where to find me. Oh, and to celebrate my fan collection, I created a painting inspired by it. Please take a look.

Folded Dreams