Golden Moon Garden

In the pale light of dawn, a golden moon lingers above an ornamental garden. A balustrade frames the scene, and upon it sits a solitary figure, poised between stillness and ascent. A tree reaches upward, its branches curling toward the fading moon as if to catch the last shimmer of night.

Below, an intricate carpet unfolds like a prayer - its patterns echoing the quiet rhythm of leaves and air. Around it, trees encircle the space in gentle harmony.

Golden Moon Garden draws inspiration from Rumi’s words: “Somewhere beyond right and wrong, there is a garden. I will meet you there.” It is a vision of that garden - where the light softens, the mind falls silent, and the soul remembers its home.

Nanook - The Spirit of the Bear

A polar bear stands before the frozen ocean, framed by drifting ice and clouds that move like ancient spirits across a dark horizon. In this landscape of silence and endurance, the bear is more than an animal - it is presence, power, and kin.

In Inuit mythology, Nanook is the master of all bears, a guardian spirit who watches over both humans and animals. Folk tales tell of polar bears helping the Inuit survive, offering food, guidance, and companionship in the harsh North. The Inuit see no division between the soul of a person and that of a bear; both share the same breath of life.

Nanook - The Spirit of the Bear honours that unity - the quiet understanding that survival is shared, and reverence is a form of gratitude.

Zebu by the Sea

A zebu stands at the edge of the ocean, its calm gaze meeting the viewer’s as waves breathe softly behind it. The sea lies still beneath a clear sky, light shimmering where water and horizon merge.

There is no movement, only awareness - the quiet dignity of a creature at ease within its vast, open world.

Inspired by the shores of West Africa, Zebu by the Sea becomes a meditation on balance and belonging, where earth, air, and water hold their breath in harmony.

The Billabong King

Along a windswept coast, where tall grasses bend and fences trace the edges of human order, a white table stands draped in linen. Chairs wait neatly arranged, as if for a gathering. Upon the table lies a saltwater crocodile - the Billabong King - his scaled body gleaming beneath a vast, spectacular sky.

The scene feels both ceremonial and absurd: nature invited, conquered, displayed. It asks the silent question that hums beneath our rituals of comfort and control - from farm to table, eat or be eaten?

In this meeting of beauty and disquiet, the horizon itself seems to hesitate - between feast and offering, dominion and surrender.