I found myself lost in the Daintree Rainforest last autumn—not geographically lost (my sense of direction resembles a dizzy hummingbird), but wonderfully, spiritually lost. The kind where you finally find yourself.
The ancient canopy danced with light, creating fleeting moments where beams broke through like cosmic spotlights. I watched emerald leaves unfurl in slow motion, edges catching golden light as they stretched sunward. Nature's own meditation.
"Unfurling" began in that moment of surrender to something bigger than myself.
In my studio, I let paint pool and flow with the same unhurried intention of those rainforest leaves. Layer upon layer of earthy greens and forest shadows, allowing chaos to settle where it wanted. Then came my favorite part—the white space. The Ma. That beautiful negative space giving everything room to breathe.
I spent hours removing, simplifying, finding perfect asymmetrical balance between dense wilderness and peaceful emptiness. I chased yugen—that Japanese concept of "profound grace" or "mysterious elegance" when something suggests rather than reveals.
The textures mirror imperfect surfaces of bark and stone, the way light dapples through leaves, creating not a literal forest but the feeling of one. An invitation to stand still and remember what nature teaches—that unfurling happens in its own time, beauty emerges through patience, and our most profound growth happens in quiet spaces between.
I hope when you gaze at "Unfurling," you feel that peaceful presence I felt beneath ancient trees. A moment to exhale, to release the unnecessary, to simply be.
"In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect." – Alice Walker
