In stillness, I observe nature.

Alone in the northern landscapes, I move with the rhythm of day and night, wandering through forests, streams, and lakes. In the dim light, I see nature as a living record, shifting with fleeting emotions — tranquil, free, solitary, and fearful. Things appear swiftly, only to vanish just as quickly. When I pause and look deeply into the scene before me, nature transforms into meaning. I sense the delicate threads linking the external environment to my inner world. The images that emerge are more than landscapes. They are moments suspended in time, precious memories, doorways into the inner terrain of the mind.

As days pass, thoughts and feelings gradually unwind, leaving only a clear, open awareness. Nature presents itself as a witness to the passage of time. The traces of the past etched into branches, forms, and textures tell their own stories. In this stillness, I feel the force of winds, the weight of snow, and the slow unfolding of the seasons. Nature simply is — real, enduring, and silent. These works, and the processes that shape them, reflect the mind through the shadows of nature. They capture perception and moments, allowing thoughts and feelings to surface through the textures of natural materials and the freedom of ink. It is an inner journey that unfolds alongside the outer landscape, through time and growth.