In Whispered Notations, found twigs are arranged across the wall as a quiet field of marks. Removed from their original environments and placed with care, they are encountered less as objects than as gestures that hover between drawing, writing, and movement. The wall becomes a page, where each small form contributes to a slow, unfolding rhythm.

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The twigs suggest a form of writing that comes before language, registering trace, weathering, and time without words. Rather than being read, it is experienced through shape, spacing, and stillness.

 

At its core, this work is an act of listening to the subtle voice of the natural world. It gives space to what is often overlooked or unheard, allowing small gestures and quiet forms to carry meaning, and inviting a quieter, more intuitive way of seeing.