I challenged myself to make marks on the out-breath (exhalation). I decided not to plan the shapes and lines I would create. Instead, I let the movement of my body guide me, allowing something unexpected to emerge. I noticed how much I slowed down. I was able to observe my thoughts and gently reminded myself to focus on my breath and let my hand move naturally. It was interesting to see how my thoughts influenced my gestures.

I made a series of Out-Breath Paintings, altering my approach each time. The methods I used included, painting on the out-breath, where my hand and body guided the direction and length of line. I whistled on the out-breath, feeling more confident in my ability to stay focused and present. I painted in fewer breaths, focusing on each movement. The lines became notations, a map of presence, a form of movement meditation.

Painting on the out-breath without overthinking form or composition resulted in fewer lines and a minimal image. One colour, one line; a change in direction. As an artist, I found myself pondering the creation - was it from another realm, binary code, notes of music, or the shape of stillness? Where do these shapes come from if not from my mind?

The idea of dancing, creating form from sound, crossed my mind. The Out-Breath Paintings taught me to embrace slowness in art and life.