Three Months,
Four Seasons
Three Months,
Four Seasons
Sunlight
Rain
Warmth
White Space
The Four Emotional Seasons
Some seasons never really end.
There are paintings that decorate walls.
And there are paintings that remember people.
For Liloo —
whose kindness never asked to be noticed,
yet changed every place it quietly passed through.
And for the red shawl — the thread of continuity, carrying warmth from one season into the next.
This book arrived the way certain memories do — sideways, in poor light, when you were not looking for them. It began not as a story but as a sensation: the feeling of standing at the edge of one season while another pressed its shoulder against the door. I had no plan for what you hold in your hands. I had only a red thread — a symbol I had carried for years without knowing where it led.
What follows is not a novel in the conventional sense, nor a collection of poems, nor a memoir, though it contains elements of all three. It is, perhaps, best understood as a painted book — a text that proceeds the way a canvas does, through accumulation, layering, and the willingness to leave certain passages deliberately unresolved. The spaces between the words are as intentional as the words themselves. The silences earn their keep.
The paintings reproduced here are not illustrations. They are companions. They arrived alongside the writing, sometimes ahead of it, sometimes trailing behind, and in several instances they changed the direction of a chapter entirely. For now, it is enough to know that nothing here was made alone, and nothing was made carelessly.
Read slowly. The thread does not rush.
Only that severe, clarifying gold — and the knowledge that it cannot last.
It begins in January, in the ordinary light of a place that was only ever meant to be a workplace — SSMC: a building, a corridor, a set of faces arriving each morning. Nothing about it announced itself as the start of a story. And yet there was a warmth threading through those first weeks that the calendar could not explain — the quiet light a person carries into a room without ever meaning to.