In Malachite Field, I explore the relationship between the natural world and the hidden terrain of the interior self. The painting takes its name from malachite, a mineral known for its intense green color and layered formations. I am drawn to the idea that something seemingly solid can contain such complexity within it—bands, deposits, irregularities and evidence of the conditions under which it was formed.

Throughout the painting, emerald, turquoise and deep mineral greens move between fluid soak-stained passages and more structured geometric forms. Some areas pool, bleed and shift organically, while others are contained within boundaries. Against the darkest passages, flashes of pale aqua, ivory and soft pink emerge almost like mineral deposits uncovered beneath the surface.

That tension between structure and fluidity is central to the painting. The geometric forms give the composition a sense of order and stability, while the stains, gestures and textured passages resist being completely contained. For me, that relationship feels deeply human. We create structures around ourselves—identities, routines, boundaries and ways of understanding who we are—yet beneath them exists an interior life that is far more fluid, layered and mysterious.

Within my Interior States collection, Malachite Field looks to nature as a metaphor for psychological space. Like Inner Strata, it considers the way the earth records pressure, accumulation and change, but here the landscape feels less like a cross-section and more like an entire field of interior experience. Color becomes terrain, and abstraction becomes a way of mapping something that cannot be physically seen.

For me, Malachite Field is about the landscape we carry within us—the places that are structured and known, and the deeper territories that remain mysterious even to ourselves.