From the Cave of Symbols

How They Arrived

The thirteen paintings arrived at the end of a long journey.

Before they emerged, I travelled to Peru, where I spent time at ancient sites including the Thunder Temple and the Sun Temple above Lake Titicaca. These landscapes opened questions about initiation, consciousness, and the nature of experience itself.

In Q’ero cosmology, lightning is understood as a force of initiation. Having experienced a lightning strike earlier in my life, this journey connected me more deeply to questions I had carried for many years: transformation, healing, and the relationship between the visible and invisible worlds.

At Lake Titicaca, I encountered a profound stillness—a sense of timelessness and connection beyond ordinary language. It was an experience that expanded my understanding of what it means to perceive.

A few months later, in Wales, I spent time alone with a mountain and asked:

How do I make a living from my presence?

The answer that came was simple:

Paint.

A few weeks later, at the end of a shamanic training course in Somerset, the thirteen symbols arrived.

We were sitting in silence. One by one, forms appeared within my awareness—symbols I had never seen before. They became cobalt blue paintings on white, emerging through a process of deep listening rather than intention.

At the same time, my mother had been diagnosed with a terminal illness.

The paintings became a container for two journeys unfolding together: an inner initiation and a profound encounter with grief, family history, and ancestral patterns.

I painted in layers over time. The symbols held what could not be spoken. They became companions through a period of transformation.

People have responded to the paintings in many ways. Some have described them as ancient writing, transmissions, or messages from beyond ordinary perception.

I do not know what is true.

What I know is the experience of making them, and the way they shift the atmosphere of a space.

Installed together, the thirteen paintings create a field of contemplation. They invite a slower way of looking and an encounter with stillness, mystery, and presence.

They are vessels of presence.