Maia Stefana Oprea


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Berlin Poplars

Hello everyone,

I hope you are all enjoying your holidays at your best !

This is my first post of a new series of book illustrations I decided to make every Sunday from now on.

The series will be entitled “Have you read this drawing ?”.

detail-Berlin-Poplars

Only books I read presently will be taken into consideration. Only books I’ve enjoyed and which influenced me enough to realise a drawing of them. These drawings are not at all meant to be professional illustrations, but more or less an aftermath of my weekly readings. Continue reading


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Black in Black

“Black in Black” is a small collage in which I used Indian ink and a variety of black pieces cut from old sketches or prints of drawings.

“Black in Black”, collage on hardboard, 29 x 40 cm, 2012

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TODAY

                            ” Today” 

has its roots in the disgust caused by excessive intimacy with the self,  a self that doesn’t stand itself.

The desire to get to the surface of its depth results in some

“realities of live being, that are rebuild every moment, that connect one day to the other, throwing bridges over gaps, over amorphous states and irretrievable absences”

(Lucian Raicu, “Reflections of the Creative Spirit”).

The slightly shocking character (even for me) of these paintings does not seek to support the proclamations of Andre Breton, that

“beauty will be convulsive or will not be at all”,

 instead itseeks to portray those remains of personal seizures, which – not without surprise – we discover that we share with everyone else.

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“The thought of Lady M.”

“The Thought of Lady M.” was realised in February 2012. I used a mixed technique, combining washable pastels, acrylics, oil colours, paper, wool, thread, all on a 80 x 60 cm canvas. It is available for sale at the price of 230 EUR(shipping not included.)

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A nocturnal atmosphere, in which each forehead hides a consciousness that cuts and cuts and cuts, like a guillotine blade. Everything exhales complicity and exhaustion. Each character stays silent and keeps hidden under its tongue, a black and wild thought, like a young mouse, a “corpse” who refuses to become word. Therefore, we are, somehow, in a dostoievskian situation, because each person buries behind its mimic a fault which does not fit elsewhere than in unspoken thoughts …
There is one character in the painting who knows that any guilty man plays with the snakes, with some snakes that only he can see. Guess who is it?