Minerals Petrified Poetry Macro Photography Anett Bulano

Table of Contents

Ancient Stories in this Petrified World.

From the smooth surface of polished marble to the sharp edges of rugged cliffs. Here I capture the sense of geological diversity from above.

REMEMBER THE WIND – Mini Series, Leipzig, Germany, 2025

A breeze, and everything turns to stone.
In this place of silence, I found red leaves that told stories in the wind.

Red autumn leaves blow through a rocky mountain landscape under a cold blue sky.

AUTUMN WINDS IN THE MOUNTAINS – Leipzig, Germany, 2025

There are moments when time seems to slow down and what is important and dear to us fades into the earth.
The sky is above me; they are below me.
In the storm of the wind, they cut through the icy blue.

Individual red leaves swirl in the air against a calm, stony backdrop.

DANCING LEAVES – Leipzig, Germany, 2025

I thought the world was standing still.
I moved; it moved, and I stood on top of it.
While the leaves danced, I learnt to let go of what was there before.

Close-up of a damaged chalkboard surface – burnt, broken and blurred. A dark rupture in the center, surrounded by faint chalk lines like ghostly traces of thoughts or memories.

DISTORTION – Düsseldorf, Germany, 2023

The surface has been altered.
Burnt, broken, smudged.
In the centre is a disruption, and a dark portal opens inward, leaving faint traces of chalk around it.

They are ghostly notes, and I catch a glimpse of written instructions that have given my inner self a voice.
They could be memories, thoughts or even dreams.

I try to grasp them, to sort them out.

But my gaze is drawn to the center of chaos, and I —
I don’t understand.

A lion-like, imaginary figure seems to emerge from volcanic ash, sand, and stone on a Balinese shore – a silent guardian beneath the shadow of Mount Gunung Agung.

KEEPER OF GUNUNG AGUNG – Bali, Indonesia, 2021

A lion is greeting me.
A being emerging from motion and stasis.
A silent guardian born from water and ash.

The creature, firm, watches.
It maintains balance beneath the shadow of the sacred mountain.

Floating between light and shadow, waiting for the moment until it vanishes back into the sea.

Sunlight glimmers and dances across the exterior wall of an old house in France, like a golden veil. A fleeting play of light, movement, and stillness.

GOLDEN VEIL – France, 2020

A glimmer of sunlight, revealed and hidden as a veil.
It danced, jumped, and swept around, and then—
silence.

A choreography made from the sun’s blinding rays, only for a moment, on an old house in France.

Fleeting.
But I remember.

Basalt dust and sand form black and white granular patterns in a misty atmosphere — a fleeting volcanic moment on an island.

WRAFTS OF MIST – Bali, Indonesia, 2019

I let the world disappear and rebuild everything.
Grain by grain, mountains and ravines emerge, swallowed up by mist.
Grains in black and white.
Is it heaven?
Is it hell?

A wave.
Water flows in, creating something monumental.
And then – it’s gone.

Swept away by the current, and I start all over again.

Textured close-up of sand and stone, shaped by time into living, flowing ripples — an abstract vision of geological transformation.

DEFORMATION – Bali, Indonesia, 2019

The ripples around me feel alive,
flowing — forming their own path,
drawn by their own language across the surface.

A spirit invoked from the folds of the earth.
A place where things are shaped.
The most solid ground might shift beneath me.
It changes.

But I remain whole.

An organically shaped stone formation in earthy tones, appearing both in motion and frozen — as if lingering in slow transformation for eons.

LINGERING – Lucerne, Switzerland, 2018

I catch myself asking:
What does it mean to linger in a world that never stands still?

Standing still is synonymous with death.

I move and change; I expand and hold on.
Everything is spinning. It’s just too much.

I want to stand still, but I keep moving.

This form could have lingered for aeons.
Floating in its movement and still trying to expand.
It’s matter, both solid and fluid.
A testament to slow, patient change.

Do I decide to stay?

Rust-red iron stains and pale lime traces on dark basalt stone – frozen ripples drawn across the weathered surface of an old bridge.

RIPPLES OF SACRIFICE – Koblenz, Germany, 2018

My mind wanders, and lime deposits trace ripples frozen in time.
Like memories fossilised in stone.
Currents that never truly stopped flowing.
And rusty, bloody reds engulfing this firm basalt stone.

It drew me near, this place near the river, in this city I visited once in my childhood.
Koblenz’s old Balduin Bridge—
Scarred by war, torn down, rebuilt, and still standing strong.

I’m reading, and I lose myself in the history of the country I grew up in.

METAL
Alloy Odyssey

WOOD
Rustic Reverie

PLANTS
Enigmatic Foliage

GLASS
Shattered Perspectives