A curation by Sofiia Lisman, Art Critic at - The ground is not beneath us. It continues through us. What forms the landscape also forms the body: branching, circulation, repetition. The same lines appear again and again − in the spread of veins, in the growth of trees, in the quiet geometry of leaves, in the whorls pressed into skin. Patterns travel through matter without asking where one life ends and another begins. Nothing stands apart from this movement. Everything participates in it. The planet grows through cycles rather than directions. What rises returns, what disappears becomes material again. Expansion, contraction, unfolding, return. The spiral is everywhere − in growth, in memory, in time itself. It does not close; it continues. To live here means to recognize that the boundary between the human and the world has always been porous. The body is not an observer of the landscape but one of its temporary shapes. Earth becomes breath, flesh, thought, and eventually returns to its wider rhythm. There is no distance to overcome, no lost connection to repair. The relationship was never broken. The human soul emerges from the same field of matter as stone, root, and water. To exist fully is not to resist this world, but to enter it without fear and shape oneself from it, again and again.