



Set within an oval of pale, consoling light, the horned figure turns inward in a gesture that reads as both prayer and self-protection, as if listening for a voice beneath the skin of the forest. Around this quiet epicenter, branches, seedheads, and birds choreograph a circular procession—life perched, blooming, and brooding—while the dense, scratch-textured darkness presses in like memory, making the sanctuary feel earned rather than given. The work’s luminous ochres and greens propose a tender covenant between the mythic and the natural, where vulnerability becomes a form of kinship and the wilderness serves as witness to transformation.







