My Right Brain Half

The moment I stop searching for ideas is the moment they arrive.

Not as sparks from within, but as something that reaches toward me — a quiet intrusion.

The roots in this drawing do not grow out of the mind; they grow into it.

They slip through the cracks of thought, take shape in the dark, and weave themselves into something that feels both foreign and familiar.

This work explores the intuition-driven side of the brain — the place where edges blur, where logic softens, and where forms appear before they are understood.

A threshold-space.

A place of shadows and reception.

Here, imagination is not a product of effort but a visitor.

A presence that enters, occupies, and slowly becomes part of you.

The brain is not the origin of thought.

Thought is the root that finds its way inside.