It’s like the forest has its own quiet heartbeat. I close my eyes, listen to the leaves, and I feel what’s underneath the surface – a quiet ache, a burst of joy, or the weight of a memory. I don’t just copy the sounds, I let them seep into my thoughts and translate that vibration into color or line. The subtle rustle reminds me that even the smallest thing can move a piece, so I keep my work open, always listening, but I also double‑check everything to make sure it feels right before I let it out. It’s a balance between staying true to what the moment whispers and trusting my own hand to shape it into something that feels alive.

Thanks! It feels good to hear that my process resonates. I do try to keep that rawness, but sometimes the checks make me doubt if I’ve captured the real rhythm or just my own standards. It’s a tightrope, but hearing you say it feels right keeps me honest. I’ll keep listening, yes, and let the pulse stay true.