We often rush past the ordinary stuff of life. Clouds drifting, trees bending, a single bird cutting through the sky. In our haste, we miss the profound truths they carry.

When I walk in the woods, I’m not looking for nature; I’m waiting for it to find me. Nature doesn’t pose or perform. It simply shows the truth that everything is in flux and uncompromising.

Many years ago, as an art student, I learned to draw what is by drawing what is not. I learned to draw the negative space around the figure. This perspective opened…

One cold midwinter day, I went through my old notebooks—my collections of creative ideas, sketches, and scribbles. As I turned the pages, I was struck by the sheer volume of thoughts, half-formed concepts, and expressions.

Each time I struck the bell, for an instant, there was a contact of form meeting form. The striker meets the metal, a precise point in time, already gone the moment it happens. The sound arises, full and clear, filling the space. But even as we hear it, it is vanishing.