A world where motion becomes a form of stillness. The field pulses with color, as if the horizon itself is breathing. The line of trees is a thread of memory, holding earth and sky in one quiet inhale. This is not a landscape — it’s a state of being, where everything has already happened, yet continues. There is no story here, only echoes. The painting asks: what remains unmoving within you, when everything else is shifting? And it whispers back: be like light — move forward without making noise.