Oil on linen canvas
70cm x 80cm

In this painting, a baby rests like a seed in the dark belly of the earth. Above it rises a Tree of Life, slender and steadfast, adorned with cicada wings and the quiet gleam of a pearl. These are the emblems of creatures who flourish in secrecy—lives shaped in darkness before they ever meet the light. They remind us that becoming often begins where the world cannot see.

This is a dwelling place of stillness, where the body becomes like bare soil—simple, unadorned, and wholly receptive. Here, we are asked not to strive, but to soften. Much like Masanobu Fukuoka’s “do-nothing” philosophy, this space honours the sacredness of pause: the gentle rooms between breath, the fertile emptiness where renewal takes hold without our interference.

Just as every inhalation requires an exhale, this inner landscape welcomes all seasons—the chaotic rains, the icy winters, the long nights when nothing seems to move. It teaches that not all growth announces itself. Some roots deepen quietly, far beneath our knowing.

This piece is an invitation to sit with the season of stillness, to trust the slow alchemy unfolding in the dark, and to surrender to the mystery that shapes us long before we surface into bloom.