Artwork 'The apples came first', Mixed Media, 2024
Appel’s Earth: The World I Grew on Canvas
Sometimes, the city hums too loudly, and I imagine it bleeding into the earth, roots tangled with streets, flowers sprouting from rooftops. That’s how Appel’s Earth began—not as a plan, but as a question: what would happen if the ordinary world I walk through every day decided to dream?
The apples came first. Oversized, impossible, glowing golden as if gravity had forgotten them. They became my constant companions, my private muses. Not fruit, exactly—not just symbols—but tiny suns, carrying memory, desire, and the weight of lives lived in corners of the world no one notices. Each canvas became a conversation between city and soil, sky and street, human labor and nature’s quiet rebellion.
I create in layers, thick strips of color that feel like breathing, like thinking out loud. Flowers erupt from buildings; streets fold into fields; horizons tilt with imagination. There’s no “rule” here—just a sense of discovery, of letting the world be strange and generous all at once.