This painting has been the background of my phone since the day I painted it.

I never deliberately decided that it would stay there for so long. I simply never felt the need to replace it.

Perhaps some images remain with us because they continue to hold something we have not completely understood yet.

The painting itself still has no name.

I have thought about naming it many times, but somehow every title feels a little too small for what I was trying to express when I painted it.

At the time, I was thinking about the journey of life.

Sometimes life seems to travel across different dimensions.

We move through land, where our feet meet the tangible world.

We cross the sea, where horizons open and certainty becomes less visible.

We look towards the sky, carrying hopes, questions, imagination, and possibilities beyond what we can immediately reach.

But perhaps there is another landscape as well.

Somewhere beneath all of these visible worlds lies a much deeper place—the quiet trench at the bottom of the heart.

Like the deepest parts of the ocean, much of it remains unseen.

It carries memories, tenderness, longing, joy, pain, dreams, and parts of ourselves that perhaps even we do not completely understand.

And yet, I like to imagine that somewhere within this complicated landscape there is still something very simple:

a pure soul inhabiting a beautiful space.

Not untouched by life,
but still capable of recognising beauty.

Not protected from storms,
but still willing to look towards the horizon.

Perhaps that was what I was painting.

Or perhaps I am only beginning to understand it now.

For the moment, I will let the painting remain unnamed.

Some things need time before they tell us what they want to be called.

Untitled, painted 6 January 2026.
Sea, land, sky—and the unseen landscapes beneath them. This painting has remained on my phone screen since the day it was created. Perhaps I am still waiting for it to tell me its name.

A Pure Soul Between Worlds

Across the land,
we learn the weight of footsteps.

Across the sea,
we learn to travel without knowing
exactly where the horizon ends.

Across the sky,
our thoughts become wings,
carrying questions farther
than our bodies can go.

But beneath them all
there is another world—

a trench inside the heart,

deep enough
to shelter forgotten dreams,

quiet enough
to keep the voices
we once thought had disappeared,

and wide enough
to hold both joy
and sorrow
without asking either to leave.

Perhaps the soul lives there,

somewhere between
water and earth,
light and depth,
memory and becoming.

And perhaps life
is not about escaping
from one world into another,

but learning to inhabit them all—

with tenderness,

with wonder,

and with enough courage
to remain beautiful inside.