My practice

My practice begins in stillness—the kind

taught by Hexagram 52 in the I Ching, the Mountain

within a Mountain: and within the Ein Sof, and with

the Shekinah, the ever infinite indwelling female

spirit, a mystery in stillness that is not empty, but

generative. In this stillness, I attune myself to

a deeper rhythm, one that moves not with

time, but with presence. It is here that the

painting begins, not with an image or concept,

but with a felt sense—an emergence from the

quiet.

From this inner ground, gestures arise like

Breath. I do not seek to

control this process, but to participate in its

unfolding, led by pulses of energy that hint at

ancient codes and unseen patterns, as Jung

might refer to as the collective unconscious.

The finished painting is not the art—it is

the residue, the echo, the exhale. The creativity is

in the act of becoming, as the Goddess culture

identified. In Hebrew it is translated as

“being.” In Ch’an Buddhism it is the silent

illumination.

Here enters the Shekinah—not only as a

symbol of the divine feminine but as the

indwelling presence within the act of creation

itself. Her presence hovers in the liminal

space between intention and revelation. She is the

breath in the silence, the fire in the pulse.

And behind even this—beyond symbol,

beyond name—Ein Sof, the Infinite, offers a-backdrop

of ungraspable mystery. Each mark is an echo of what

cannot be fully known but longs to be felt.

What emerges is not a finished statement but

—an invitation into— the mystery, where

viewers are asked not to interpret, but to

inhabit. Each piece invites the viewer to

approach the painting not as a thing, but as a

threshold—an invitation to stand before the

piece as before a mountain, or a flame, to

encounter their own stillness, to be within the

mystery.

This is my practice: to become still enough to

listen, open enough to receive, and bold

enough to follow where the current leads.