My Own Water Land

This painting came alive one evening when I allowed myself to sit quietly and tune inwards. I wasn’t trying to create anything specific. I wasn’t planning a design or thinking of what the end result should look like. I simply sat with myself, paying attention to my breath, my heartbeat, and the small sensations that were moving through my body. In that stillness, I felt the need to pick up my brush and let it move freely.

At first, I didn’t know what was forming. But as colours and shapes began to flow onto the paper, I realised something was taking shape — a world of its own, what I now call my water land.

This water land feels like both an inner and outer reflection. The patterns are soft and flowing, moving across the space the way water moves in its own rhythm. Some parts are calm and still, while others carry a sense of motion. Together, they remind me of how life always carries both — peace and movement, stillness and change.

The shell-like shapes that appeared hold a quiet significance for me. They feel like symbols of time, holding the past and the present together. They remind me of continuity — how things change but also carry memory, how the old and the new are always connected. The wavy lines felt like currents, guiding the eye across the painting, showing me that nothing is separate, everything is linked.

As I continued, I began to notice the painting turning into a living ecosystem of its own. Small shapes that looked like water life came through naturally. Fish-like forms, fragments of plants, hints of sea creatures. It started to feel like a balanced world, where every part quietly belongs. That balance gave me comfort, reminding me that even in my own life, harmony is possible when each part of me is allowed its space.

The colours in this painting also hold that sense of balance. Some are bright, almost playful, while others are soft and muted. I didn’t choose them with intention, but looking at them now, they seem to reflect different emotions I was holding that day. Together, they don’t compete, but coexist. And maybe that is the lesson of this water land — coexistence, acceptance, and flow.

When I look at the painting now, it feels calming. It brings me back to that moment of quiet where it began. It reminds me of how important it is to slow down, to listen inwardly, and to allow things to unfold instead of always trying to control the outcome. It is both a memory of a peaceful moment and a reminder to keep creating spaces of peace within myself.

This is my water land — a space of colours, patterns, and quiet harmony. A space that reminds me to return to myself, again and again.