This piece began not with noise, but with a signal—a kind of quiet frequency you feel more than hear.
The kind that flickers just beneath awareness, like a memory the brain stores in color, not words.

This is a cornflower at full bloom.
Not idealised but observed.
Its petals fine and purposeful, vibrant yet fleeting.
A structure evolved to catch light, and perhaps, attention.

Before the brush, there is wax.
Wax is the base layer—my ground.
It responds like the body: it resists, it yields, it remembers.
It acts as a kind of neural tissue within the painting, absorbing every gesture and holding every mark.

From there, I begin to build.
Form through attention.
Color through resonance.
Each line, each edge, a trace of time and presence—rendered with precision and reverence.

The palette is rooted in emotional tone, not just visual truth:

Cerebral blue — the stimulus of attention
Violet-grey — thought softening into perception
Soft white — clarity, space, the breath between

This is Botanical Realism—but informed by the inner landscape as much as the outer one.
It lives at the intersection of observation and sensation—where eye meets brain, and brain meets feeling.

It’s not about capturing the flower as it is, but as it lands in us—neurologically, emotionally, biologically.

And now, the painting is here.
Still, but awake.

Ready to be felt.

Can the blue of a cornflower trigger a memory your brain forgot it kept?