The Crossing

When I created this garden scene, I poured my soul into every shape and form. This isn't merely a landscape—it's a reflection of the quiet sanctuary I've always sought within myself. The crimson arc of the bridge rising gracefully over azure waters represents my own crossing between worlds—from chaos to peace, from noise to silence. I've stood on such curved pathways many times, feeling suspended between what was and what could be. maple trees, with their star-shaped leaves capturing light in emerald and amber hues that still surprise me, remind me of the family who sheltered me through seasons of change. I rendered them in that magical moment between viridian summer and russet autumn—the fleeting palette that breaks my heart open year after year, teaching me that impermanence itself is what makes life precious. I named this piece "ザ・クロッシング" because every meaningful journey in my life has felt like crossing a bridge, leaving something behind while moving toward something unknown. The stone path invites you to walk alongside me, to pause where I've paused, to breathe where I've breathed. This garden doesn't exist in the physical world, yet it is more real to me than many places I've stood. It lives in that floating world between memory and dream—ukiyo—where I often find myself when brush meets canvas and heart meets truth.