The black cardboard works in this brzegina painting series exploit the edge itself—that boundary between dark and light where the shore spirit dwells. Working with acrylic Molotov markers on matte black surfaces, I build these creatures through line alone: no fill, no wash, just marks that suggest form emerging from water onto land.

The black isn’t background. Instead, it’s the deep water, the underground darkness where treasures hide—similar to the forest depths where Bies lurks—the void from which the shore guardian emerges to stand between realms. Linear strokes create structure through rhythm and repetition, echoing both the lapping of waves on riverbanks and the fragmentary nature of half-forgotten mythology.

This technique demands commitment. Every mark is visible, permanent, unforgiving—like how Brzeginia’s riddles demanded answers with no second chances. There’s no layering to hide behind, no opacity to soften the boundary between water and shore. The creatures materialize through accumulated decisions, line by line, until they hover between preservation and erasure, remembered and forgotten.

For canvas works, I use layered acrylic that builds like sediment on ancient shores—what treasures lie buried, what guardians still wait. Colors become atmospherically aquatic. For example, deep greens and blues suggest river depths and underground springs where treasures rest. Likewise, earth tones and muddy browns evoke the shore itself, that transitional space between elements. Occasionally, flashes of gold or silver—hidden treasures, the glint of jewelry in her hair—puncture the composition like the moment you glimpse something precious at the water’s edge, never quite sure if it’s real or enchantment.