Pillars of Birch XI

Sunlight carves a path through the grove, its beams slicing between the white-barked sentinels. The masked figure is part of this architecture yet also apart from it—rooted in the landscape but somehow beyond it, a fleeting presence in an enduring place.

In the Japanese tradition of Nō theater, the mask is not a concealment but a gateway—revealing hidden emotions, allowing the performer to transcend the boundaries of self. Here, the mask reflects the world around it, inviting the viewer to step beyond identity, beyond time.

The coat, caught in the wind, suggests movement. The birches, unmoving, suggest permanence. This is the balance of all things—action and stillness, presence and absence, the known and the unknown.