Aliis Sinisalu Visuals

Directions Website Contact the business

Aliis Sinisalu Visuals Modern Fairytale

πŸ–€πŸŽ LAST APPLE πŸŽπŸ–€ ... Perhaps there are seasons when we are meant to be fruitful, and seasons when we are meant to retrea...
30/09/2026

πŸ–€πŸŽ LAST APPLE πŸŽπŸ–€ ... Perhaps there are seasons when we are meant to be fruitful, and seasons when we are meant to retreat beneath the surface. Seasons for reaching outward, and seasons for becoming still enough to hear what is happening underneath. Not everything that softens is lost. Not everything that decays has failed.
β€’
Some things must be allowed to finish.
β€’
And sometimes the most loving thing we can do for ourselves is to stop asking whether we are still producing...
.. Full story on aliissinisalu.com

Analog (paper) + digital collage | Collage art | Photoshop

πŸŒΎπŸ“ STRAWBERRY FIELDS πŸ“πŸŒΎ ...No regrets for the winters that nearly broke us. No shame for the months spent resting beneat...
27/05/2026

πŸŒΎπŸ“ STRAWBERRY FIELDS πŸ“πŸŒΎ ...No regrets for the winters that nearly broke us. No shame for the months spent resting beneath invisible snow. Even the softest flowers disappear before they return stronger than before.
β€’
Nora picked another strawberry and let its sweetness melt on her tongue slowly, reverently, like a prayer.
β€’
Because despite everything -Β despite grief, despite loneliness, despite the terrible noise of the world -Β there was still beauty left...
..Full story on aliissinisalu.com

| Analog (paper) + Photoshop | Collage art |

πŸ‘½β˜οΈ THE MOODY GIRL β˜οΈπŸ‘½ ...Mia hesitated but decided to speak the truth. β€œI don’t know how to feel happy anymore. My sadn...
29/01/2026

πŸ‘½β˜οΈ THE MOODY GIRL β˜οΈπŸ‘½ ...Mia hesitated but decided to speak the truth. β€œI don’t know how to feel happy anymore. My sadness feels bigger than me.”
β€’
The woman nodded thoughtfully. β€œSometimes, we carry storms inside us. But every storm can water a garden if we know how to tend it.”...
..Full story on aliissinisalu.com

| Acrylics + Analog (paper) + Photoshop | Collage art |

πŸ‘€πŸŒ΅ DESERT EYES πŸŒ΅πŸ‘€ ...She sat down a few feet away, pressing her thumb against the small wound on her ankle, feeling the ...
27/01/2026

πŸ‘€πŸŒ΅ DESERT EYES πŸŒ΅πŸ‘€ ...She sat down a few feet away, pressing her thumb against the small wound on her ankle, feeling the sting. She thought about what he had said - that the world bites back when you don’t respect its edges. She thought about all the times she had stepped too close, too fast, and how she had never quite understood why it hurt so much when she did...
..Full story on aliissinisalu.com

| Analog (paper) + Photoshop | Collage art |

πŸ‘οΈπŸŠ THE WOMAN WHO CRIED CROCODILE TEARS πŸŠπŸ‘οΈ ...One night, a traveler knocked on her door. He was a collector of rare thi...
26/01/2026

πŸ‘οΈπŸŠ THE WOMAN WHO CRIED CROCODILE TEARS πŸŠπŸ‘οΈ ...One night, a traveler knocked on her door. He was a collector of rare things -Β odd stones, old stories, broken hearts. He had heard of her tears and wanted to see one for himself.
Belle, weary and half-ashamed, agreed...
..Full story on aliissinisalu.com

| Analog (paper) + Photoshop | Collage art |

🩸πŸ₯€ WELL-HIDDEN BRUISES πŸ₯€πŸ©Έ ...Her body knew before her mind did. Bodies are inconvenient that way. They remember what the...
22/01/2026

🩸πŸ₯€ WELL-HIDDEN BRUISES πŸ₯€πŸ©Έ ...Her body knew before her mind did. Bodies are inconvenient that way. They remember what the intellect edits out. The bruises deepened not from falling, but from staying upright where something inside had already knelt...
..Full story on aliissinisalu.com

| Analog (paper) + Photoshop | Surreal collage |

πŸͺΎπŸ‘οΈ 11:22 πŸ‘οΈπŸͺΎ In the old forests, where the ground was stitched with roots and bones and the names of the dead sank fast...
20/01/2026

πŸͺΎπŸ‘οΈ 11:22 πŸ‘οΈπŸͺΎ In the old forests, where the ground was stitched with roots and bones and the names of the dead sank faster than iron, time was never trusted. Clocks belonged to houses, not to forests. Still, there was one minute the forest kept for itself, a narrow breath between belonging and becoming, when even the boldest paths lost their confidence and the full moon dipped low, as if listening for a promise long forgotten. The elders called it 11:22, not because they had named it first, but because that was when the world paused to see what it had been ignoring.
β€’
On nights when the moon pressed against the treetops like an unblinking eye, the forest prepared itself. Branches bent inward. Moss glimmered faintly, remembering fire. The air thickened with resin, damp fur, and something older, metallic and sweet. Animals fell into place without command: the wolf crouched at the edge, deer froze farther back and the owl counted the dark with deliberate turns. Silence arrived not as absence, but as discipline.
β€’
That was when Linda emerged...
..Full story on aliissinisalu.com

| Digital collage (Photoshop) |

Address

Malang

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Aliis Sinisalu Visuals posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Business

Send a message to Aliis Sinisalu Visuals:

Shortcuts

Share