What are we doing?

“The Why Behind My Art: A World Disconnected”

Every time I walk through the bush, along a beach, or down a quiet lane, there’s a weight in my chest—not from the silence, but from the absence of attention. The world is humming, blooming, changing with the seasons, but heads are down, eyes glazed, screens glowing. We are living in the most connected age in history, and yet we’ve never felt so far from the pulse of the Earth and so alone.

This disconnection is my heartbreak. It’s also my fire.

We scroll through photos of sunsets we never looked up to see. We repost images of wildflowers we’ve never bent down to smell. We order food with a swipe, having no idea where it came from, what hands made it, what season it truly belongs to. Somewhere along the way, we traded awe for efficiency and mass consumption.

I realised I wasn’t just frustrated—I was deeply disappointed. And this disappointment became my why. My purpose.

I decided to use my art as an outlet and a call to action. A quiet invitation to come back. To feel. To notice. To remember.

Through my work, I want to reconnect people with the cycles they’ve forgotten: the texture of bark, the smell of rain on grass, the sting of winter air on bare skin, the bright joy of seeing nature alive. I want people to see—not through a screen, but through their skin, their breath, their hands.

Art has the power to stop time, to make us present. I create not just for beauty, but for memory—for a kind of remembering that runs deeper than knowledge. It’s about a truth we all carry: we belong to this world, not the one inside our phones. We crave connection and nature is the answer to this calling.

This is not nostalgia. It’s a reclamation.

I make art to help people remember the real rhythm of life and our connection to the natural world. If even one person looks up after experiencing my work—steps outside, feels the wind, touches the soil—then it’s worth it. That’s the difference I want to make.