A free adaptation after Zubair Rizvi Of Walls and Doors After a poem by Zubair Rizvi (freely rendered). Through whose eyes did you behold the walls and doors of this house? Even now, light lingers on their cheeks—the streets, the markets, the winding paths. Those who stood silent and
Birds Returned An old story— and still, it’s hard to believe. It happened once: in the village gardens not on a single branch did fruit take hold. And the season of green leaves never came. The birds gave a bitter cry, rose all at once, and flew to distant
This painting grows out of my own mountaineering experience in the Matcha Knot region, where the Alay, Turkestan, and Zeravshan ranges converge in a maze of glaciers and golden rock faces. I wanted to capture the feeling of climbing on a steep, sunlit slope, when every step with crampons bites
The sea rests in absolute quiet, yet the quiet is alive. Nothing here is frozen; everything is held. A single vertical breath of light descends, uniting sky and water. It cleaves the world like a blade yet leaves no wound, a division that erases the very idea of above and
River of Stillness, Valley of Light is the opening gateway to the Shambhala series, imagining a hidden valley where outer landscape and inner awareness mirror one another. A luminous river winds toward a distant, mist‑veiled horizon, its surface traced by faint circular ripples that only suggest a yin–yang
This painting began with a simple vision: one mountain, one sacred valley, quietly holding every season of an inner life. I wanted a landscape that feels like a pause between breaths—an eclipsed sun above, a soft spring unfolding below. The pale pink sakura tree beside the temple is the
This work depicts a glowing tree rooted in a misty mountain valley beneath a vast yin–yang moon. The meandering river and distant peak echo a non‑linear inner journey, evoking Jungian ideas of shadow, Self, and individuation. Soft gold and teal tones, combined with the graphic celestial symbol, create
This work portrays a luminous tree standing alone in a meandering mountain valley under a vast moonlit sky. Inspired by the psychology of Carl Jung, the glowing tree suggests the Self emerging from darkness, a living symbol of inner wholeness that quietly illuminates the unconscious landscape. The surrounding mountains hint
Thus have I heard. Someone asked, "Who walks?" The teacher said: "Step doesn't hold step. Thought doesn't hold thought. Seek the walker—only walking. Seek the knower—only knowing. Look straight: no owner here." The questioner fell silent. Ийнхүү би сонссон. Нэгэн
If life is a dream nested in dream, who keeps it true? Something in each moment flares into presence— not a distant watcher, but awareness that touches itself as it sees. The world is its own unfolding, and “I” and “this” rise together in one movement. It recognizes itself in
structure
Two monks argued. The first said, “There is no key.” The second said, “There is no door.” The Master laughed. “And yet you are both locked.” A student brought a knot. “Untie it.” The Master looked at the rope’s loose end. It stirred. He handed the knot back to
structure
At the moon door, the master held a knotted rope. The monk asked, “How do I pass through?” “Untie it.” The monk reached. The master drew it back. “Not that.” Autumn. Leaves fell through the round gate. The monk returned. “Untied.” The master lifted the rope. The knot remained. “Who