A little sad but optimistic, this is how Anne Ten Donkelaar's delicate work makes me feel. Even the process of her work, she explores those unique discoveries in nature, gives them a story and accordingly puts them on display. The fragile flowers meticulously placed, a broken twig put together or the protecting glass beads all treated like from desperate need to preserve and protect her beautiful treasures. Is it a little romantically gloomy? or it's my own still winter blues?