There are messages that don’t arrive in words.
They come in feelings, symbols, patterns that feel older than language—like vibrations humming beneath the bones of reality. This painting came from one of those moments, where I wasn’t painting something onto the canvas—I was pulling it through.

I didn’t know what I was hearing at the time, but I knew I had to follow it. That spiral on the left? That’s where the message entered. A portal, a memory, a soundwave that looped back into itself and brought something with it. Some ancient whisper trying to find form. Maybe it was me talking to myself from a higher version of myself. Maybe it was a piece of the universe tapping me on the shoulder and saying, “Hey, don’t forget who you are.”

The shapes on the right—those stacks of greens and blacks—feel like motion caught mid-sentence. Like sacred geometry learning how to breathe. I imagine them as frequencies turned visual. You ever close your eyes and see shapes behind your eyelids? That’s what these are. Not decoration, but communication. Transmission.

At the center of it all, that pastel chaos—like wind caught in a net, like divine static—is where the real message lives. It doesn’t speak in sentences, it speaks in feeling. And I think that’s the point.

When I paint like this, I don’t plan. I surrender. I become a vessel. And what pours out is often something I only understand later. Sometimes never. But that’s the beauty of it—this isn’t just art, it’s decoding. It’s remembering. It’s trying to pull fragments of the infinite through this little human body and offer them to anyone willing to feel.

Maybe you’ve felt it too—when you get chills for no reason, or you sense something watching over you, or you just “know” something without knowing how. That’s the same channel. That’s the transmission. The divine doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it paints.

So if this piece speaks to you in a way you can’t explain, good. Let it. You don’t need to translate the cosmos to feel it loving you.

– Nick Mokashi
MokashiArt.com