Out of time Painting

In my childhood we were kiping family photographs, commemorative papers, orders and family values in a separate bag. Among them was Doxa's watch, which had no hands. The grandmother said that the hands were gold and they were stolen by the watchmaker, to whom she took them for repair. In general, these watches went through the war and hardships, when my ancestors left Stalingrad and traveled for 2 months to Siberia in freight train, they exchanged family silver and gold things for food, which they managed to take from home ... this watch was preserved, but later I found out that my sister took them to the junk dealer just to show and he lured them away from her for 2 euros. All this is sad, but the image of a clock without hands has sunk into my soul. Memory is timeless. A delicate rose and this watch without hands hanging on a thorn is the image that came out from under my brush.