Can a beetle see its own back?

Perhaps it can — after all, it isn’t human. Can a beetle see its own back in my paintings? Probably not — after all, it isn’t human. Can a person see beetles’ backs in my paintings? They might not — they have been enlarged and transformed through my own way of seeing and understanding. What do I understand about beetles, about their backs? That they are wonderfully rich in colour combinations, patterns and inventiveness; that looking closely brings more and more questions to mind, and it feels good to imagine answers. Think of your own answers: how do mothers “colour in” their little beetles, where do those quick little bodies find so many different colours of paint, how do they choose their patterns… Look at the paintings from a distance, like a human — are they interesting, does one perhaps feel right for you? Look very closely, like a beetle — do the colours have thickness, are they rough… Why not look at the paintings once more, taking your time?

Beetles first inspired me a year ago, in the summer of 2025, during a plein-air painting gathering in Liciškėnai. When you paint outdoors, even if you don’t see them, you will certainly feel them — and that is how we met. I invite you, too, to get to know them better through painting.

For me, a beetle’s back is the beginning of a painting — its map. I select and simplify the patterns and colour combinations the beetle has “invented”, then explore each patch separately, like a mosaic of things I have never seen before. Gradually, the beetle’s actual pattern merges with my own decisions and becomes a painting in which you may not always recognise the beetle.