The Sky Speaks

The Sky Speaks is a meditation on the intangible—the quiet conversations that live beyond words. It draws from the dialogue between our inner worlds and the elements around us. Nature doesn’t speak in language; it’s felt. It reveals itself through movement, sound, and sensation. This work is a response to the storms, skies, and waters of life—a collaboration with the weather of our emotions and experiences.

Can we find serenity in the vastness of the skies? Sit with the thunder, embrace the chaos, and trust the cycles of change? The Sky Speaks invites us to listen, to accept life’s unpredictability, and to find grounding in the rhythms of nature. It is a reminder of our own impermanence, a call to presence, appreciation of health, our sensations, and the mysterious journey of being alive. With patience, persistence, and wonder, we remain curious, seeing beauty in the everyday.

Working closely with children, particularly those with special needs and autism, has deepened my understanding of nonverbal communication. There is profound poetry in silence—in the shared language of gesture, intuition, and creative outlets of the arts. Structured words are only one form of expression, and often, they fall short. I’ve come to recognise that art is my true language. In moments where I choose not to talk, I move. I express in colour, in texture, in sound, scent, taste, light—through the senses. My essays are painted, tactile, felt through art.

Art is universal. It transcends language and borders. It offers a way to connect, to interpret, and to feel. It allows a shared space for our human experience with no translation needed.

Movement is central to my creative process. When I move, I am more able to connect to my self and my surroundings. Without that connection, I can feel stuck, stagnant, but through motion comes liberation. My work is an extension of that freedom, and I incorporate it into my teaching as well. Movement evokes emotion, inviting creativity and expression.

Art has always been my home. At times, it’s been a refuge, at others something I’ve fought with, avoided, or abandoned, howeve it never truly leaves. Even when I haven’t created, I’ve watched, wondered, absorbed. The curiosity never stops.

This is the heart of my practice, to feel deeply, to move honestly, and to share through the poetry of art.