Where Seeds Remember, the story behind the painting

This painting unfolded slowly, over the course of a month and a half. I worked on it nearly every day, returning to it with a mixture of curiosity, persistence, and trust. Some stages felt full of promise, others left me staring at the canvas, unsure of what to do next. But I never felt like walking away. There was something in it that kept asking to be heard — something I didn’t yet understand, but felt compelled to follow.

What you see now is only the final surface. Beneath it lie many layers, each one a step in the process — some soft and lyrical, others restless or unresolved. I painted over beautiful moments and challenging ones alike, not out of disregard, but because they didn’t yet feel whole. It was a process of listening, of allowing, of staying with it even when it wasn’t clear where it was going.

And then, toward the end, something shifted. The brush moved differently, the colors settled in with more ease. A final layer came through — not loud or dramatic, but quiet and certain. It felt like something long submerged had finally begun to rise.

That’s when the metaphor became clear. It reminded me of the sea floor — dark, silent, holding the weight of forgotten things. And from that depth, small bubbles lifting slowly, gracefully, toward the surface. As I painted the delicate, drifting dots, they became more than decorative marks. They felt like souls — or seeds — rising gently through layers of memory and experience, drawn upward by something unseen, something luminous.

I named the piece Where Seeds Remember because it holds that feeling — of origin and ascent, of the quiet pull toward light. It speaks to the way we carry where we come from, even as we move beyond it. It’s a painting about transformation, but not the sudden kind. The kind that comes from showing up, again and again, even when you’re not sure what’s next.

Maybe that’s what painting — and life — often comes down to: staying with it long enough for something true to rise.

Where Seeds Remember,

acrylic on canvas, 70 cm x 100 cm, 2025.