I began by moving turquoise across the black canvas with my feet. The gestures gathered and turned into something like a current pulling inward. I hadn’t planned its shape, but I felt I needed to follow it.

As the colour grew, I thought about how easily we can get caught inside our own thoughts. Some days, even the things we feel most deeply are hard to recognise. I kept moving, letting the turquoise cross the darkness without asking it to become a particular image.

Then I placed one footprint away from the movement. I wanted a trace of myself in that quiet space: a place to stand beside what was unfolding, rather than disappear into it. The mark is small, but I chose exactly where to leave it.

When I finished, I looked at the space between the footprint and the colour. That distance felt as much a part of the work as the movement itself. Perhaps it was the moment of standing still that allowed me to see what had been drawing me inward.

You may see a current, a storm, or something entirely different. I can tell you why I left my trace there, but I cannot tell you what you will find around it. That part of the story begins with you.