In Two people and a flower, Jędrzej Bieńko extends his meditation on interconnectedness into the realm of human relation. Against a muted, greyish ground, two spectral faces appear—one emerging softly from the canvas, the other hovering above it—linked by the faint thread of their gaze. Their features, pale and dissolving, seem caught between apparition and memory, as if echoing across time or consciousness.

In the lower right corner, a small red flower punctuates the composition: a fragile counterpoint to the ethereal faces, anchoring the image in the material world. The contrast between the flower’s vivid hue and the surrounding haze suggests a delicate persistence of life, affection, or remembrance within an otherwise fading field. Through this quiet interplay of presence and disappearance, Bieńko captures a state of tender haunting—where human connection flickers like a trace, and the natural world offers the only tangible sign of continuity.