A Rose

When we are caught in the narrative, we become trapped in a mode of perception that overlooks the interconnectivity of everything around us. In this state, we risk missing solutions that may have been present all along.

Engaging with art, ritual, and play isn't just about creating something beautiful or working with materials like paint. It’s a practice of shifting our perception daily, allowing us to find answers to our deepest questions through small, yet transcendental acts.

When my grandmother was ill, she told my uncle about an event from when she was six years old—she had been punished for stealing the neighbor’s roses. After her passing, I began an artistic process, and the image of a rose emerged. This process became a form of communication, where I allowed the image to express itself on its own terms. I had to step away from my rational desire to control what the rose should look like—its color, shape, or form—and instead, I opened my mind and heart to receive it as it wanted to be.

One day, I saw a reflection in a glass of water I was drinking, and there it was: the rose. Black and white, sad, twisted to one side. It reflected how it existed energetically in that moment.

I continued to "talk" with this rose, staying open to how it wanted to express itself. A few days later, while walking down the street, I unexpectedly encountered a painting of a little girl standing atop three roses. This communication between the energetic and literal worlds persisted for some time.

What I realized is that I could have just painted a rose and made an interpretation of the pain and beauty I had inherited from my grandmother's memory. I could have explained my resistance to painting and self-expression as stemming from this fear of punishment. But instead, I chose to play with the image and accept it exactly as it was—as it wanted to be. And simply by being heard, seen, and accepted, the image transformed.

To heal painful memories, it’s imperative to accept them fully and take them into our hearts exactly as they are.

So, whatever your narrative may be, I invite you to release it for a moment. In doing so, you might begin a conversation with the images that contain a much larger story—the bigger picture.