Sometimes you walk into a place expecting nothing in particular…
and walk out changed.
That’s exactly what happened to me at Energy in Motion exhibition by Plamen Kostov at Lik Gallery.
I’m not someone who regularly visits art exhibitions.
But this one… this one found me at the right moment.
When Art Speaks Not to the Mind, but to the Feeling
From the moment I stepped inside, I felt this wouldn’t be just “looking at paintings.”
There was something alive in the air.
Plamen Kostov’s paintings don’t stand still – they move.
They carry an energy that doesn’t overwhelm you, but frees you.
And somehow, without even realizing it, I began to recognize myself in them.
In that movement.
In that balance between chaos and calm.
In that feeling that life doesn’t always have to be perfectly arranged to be beautiful.
Freedom That Cannot Be Explained – Only Felt
Right from the start, I noticed that horses were a central motif in the exhibition.
There were many such paintings – each different, yet all carrying the same powerful energy.
But one of them stopped me.
The horse wasn’t just painted.
It was alive.
There was strength, direction, an inner impulse without doubt.
Looking at it, I felt something deeply personal – that desire to move forward, without being held back by fear, without hesitation.
For me, that horse became a symbol of movement –
of that part of me that knows it shouldn’t stay in one place.
A Calm That Is Not Silence, but a State of Being
If the horses represented the part of me that cannot stand still,
the herons were something entirely different.
They didn’t make me think about movement.
They made me feel what lightness truly means.
Their wings didn’t look like effort.
There was no tension, no struggle.
Everything about them felt as if it happened without resistance.
And that’s what stopped me.
Because I realized how often everything in my life feels like effort.
How often I think, plan, control… even when there’s no need.
And they simply were.
There was no “I have to.”
No “how will this work.”
No doubt.
And in that moment, I realized how rarely I allow myself to live like that –
without inner tension, without constantly preparing for what comes next.
The herons didn’t give me calm in the sense of silence.
They gave me a sense of freedom that doesn’t weigh you down.
Not the kind of freedom you chase,
but the kind that is already there… if you stop overcomplicating it.
And maybe that’s why they felt so close to me.
Not because they showed me something new,
but because they reminded me of something I had forgotten to allow myself.
The Small Things That Carry the Biggest Messages
One of the most powerful paintings for me was the one with the hands and the puzzle.
Two hands. Two pieces. One moment before they connect.
That exact moment held me there.
There was a slight tension in it – that quiet “will it work?”
And somehow, I immediately recognized myself in it.
It made me think of all those moments in my life when things weren’t clear from the beginning.
When I wondered whether I was in the right place, with the right people, at the right time.
There was hesitation. Uncertainty. Sometimes even the urge to step back.
And that painting reminded me of something very simple –
that not everything has to fit immediately to have meaning.
That in that moment “in between” –
between effort and result,
between doubt and trust –
something important is happening.
And maybe the most valuable thing isn’t that the pieces come together…
but that you reach out your hand to connect them in the first place.
A Place Where Time Stands Still
The landscape was something different… and maybe that’s exactly why it held me the longest.
Among all the paintings filled with movement and energy,
it felt like that rare moment in life when everything suddenly becomes quiet – not because it has ended, but because nothing more needs to happen.
Light, reflections, stillness.
But not the kind of “stillness” we usually imagine – rather the feeling of being exactly where you’re supposed to be, without questioning it.
Standing in front of that painting, I realized how rarely I experience moments like that.
How often I think about the next thing I need to do.
How often even when I stop, it’s still noisy inside me.
But here… there was no noise.
And it brought me back to a very simple, almost forgotten feeling –
that what exists right now is enough.
Without improving it.
Without analyzing it.
Without pushing it somewhere into the future.
This painting didn’t make me dream of more.
It made me stop searching for “more.”
And maybe that’s why it felt so close.
Because in it, I didn’t see some perfect world…
but a version of myself that doesn’t rush, doesn’t doubt, and doesn’t constantly try to be better.
It simply is.
And I realized how easily I lose that –
in everyday life, in tasks, in my thoughts.
But this painting… quietly gave it back to me.
And even after I left the gallery, it stayed with me.
Not as an image, but as a feeling.
Like that inner moment when everything pauses for a second…
and you realize that nothing is missing.
What This Exhibition Gave Me
This wasn’t just a cultural event in Sofia.
It was an experience.
It was a pause.
In a world where everything moves too fast,
it reminded me that I don’t always have to run.
I left Lik Gallery feeling lighter.
Calmer.
More connected to myself.
And that’s the most valuable thing art can give you.
Plamen Kostov – A Name to Remember
With this exhibition, Plamen Kostov doesn’t just present himself –
he makes a statement.
A powerful, impactful, exceptionally talented artist who has the ability to touch people in a way that stays with them.
I’m convinced this is only the beginning for him –
and that we will be hearing his name more and more.
Why I Would Visit Again
Because this wasn’t just an exhibition.
It was a meeting.
With art.
With emotion.
With myself.
The exhibition is already over.
But the feeling it left behind isn’t.
If there’s one thing I took with me, it’s not just memories of paintings,
but a quieter way of relating to life.
Less rushing.
More feeling.
And maybe that’s the real power of encounters like this with art –
they don’t end when you leave the gallery.
They stay with you.
And they change you… in a way you only understand later. 🎨
