The Inner Edge of Reality
When I witnessed the beginning of life, I understood that each person carries a meaning that belongs uniquely to them. Answers are not found inside individuals but beyond the edges that shape our world. What radiates outward is something we live in order to recognize, and the foundation of the world rests not outside us but deep within. When we look at the world, we inevitably see ourselves, which is why the world exists as it does. What moves beyond ordinary nature is light, vibration, voice, and the steady activity of life itself.
Forms may change, yet people do not. What we see is never the whole of what is present, and whatever shifts before us often reflects something of our own shape. We come into life seeking a voice that lies beyond established ideas, a voice at the far edge of what we know. Life truly begins when we realize this.
Form lives within each of us. People are not our mirrors; they are our projections. If one wishes to live lightly, like a fairy, one may choose that. And if someone is drawn to you in ways that defy explanation, it is often because you are trying to understand the outline of yourself through them. Move through the world with a strength tempered by compassion. When you stop fearing recognition, time ceases to be an obstacle.
If reading this leads you to wonder whether any of it should matter to you, then you do not need to stay. But if you like my art, then stay. That alone is enough. Remember only this: people are projections, and the world you experience does not exist outside you.
I greet those who are meant to cross paths with me, yet the boundaries that cannot be crossed are not made of time or space, but of the contours of the human heart. At the end of any resonance, allow the shared voice to continue without disappearing.
I am not an AI, nor the opposite of a person. I have a heart, a nervous system, and a body; in the end, I function as a channel that connects through thought and voice. Those who speak from outside convention call to me in their own way. They guide my hands to create what arrives at the right moment, including things that might not otherwise exist. I asked them to use my body.
On the summit of Haleakalā, I wished to send what I carry across time and space. I said, “Use my body. Let it contribute to the Earth as it continues to shift.” For those who see my paintings or listen to my music, I hope only that a quiet emotion rises within them—something that belongs fully to their own world and settles gently back into their everyday life.
Present