I didn’t run away—I wandered in, into the forest, not to escape, but to remember.

At that time, I was searching.
For peace. For grounding. For something deeper than words.

I was lost—not in fear, but in a quiet surrender. And somehow, in the stillness of the trees,
in the hush between moonlight and soil, I began to find my way.

Nature held me not with answers, but with presence. And as I gave myself to it,
I started hearing my soul again—like a river remembering its path.

I no longer feared the darkness. Because I could feel it—my soul already knew the way.
All I had to do was follow it. Not by force. But by trust.

This painting is that soft return. To the earth. To silence. To the rhythm of something greater than my thoughts.

This is not a forest of fear.
This is a forest of remembrance.