Nature has always been where I feel most present. It is where distractions fall away, where beauty feels raw and honest, and where I return to make sense of both the world around me and the one within. These paintings grew from that relationship with the natural world, but also from the realization that the places we move through never truly leave us. They become part of how we remember, how we see, and how we understand ourselves.

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Layers merge and dissolve like memories that are part lived, part imagined. Color becomes emotion, revealing what lies beneath the surface. Water reflects, but never faithfully; it bends, distorts, and carries fragments elsewhere. Different atmospheres coexist without competing, much like the memories, emotions, and landscapes we hold within us all at once.

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These landscapes do not fully resolve. They remain in motion, echoing a quiet uncertainty that feels deeply familiar to me. Horizons become symbols of possibility and discovery, while faint paths and gestures suggest journeys that continue long after we think they have ended.

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Over time, I came to understand that belonging was never something I would find in a single place. It is shaped by every landscape that has left its mark on me, by every place I have called home, and by those I have yet to discover. Perhaps we all carry these inner landscapes: fragments of places we've loved, left behind, or are still searching for.

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Between Horizons is an invitation to inhabit that space where memory, landscape, and identity blur into one another, and to consider that belonging is not a place. It is a moving horizon.