THE STORY
This artwork reflects my journey in Bali, a place that completely transformed my perspective. After years of physical and mental struggle, I felt an urgent need to break free and heal. I never imagined going to Bali, yet something told me to stop overthinking and just go. So I did.
From the moment I arrived, I felt the island’s energy. The chaos, the movement, the unpredictability, it all felt strangely natural. Instead of resisting, I embraced it. I saw how every person played a role in a larger, intricate balance. The culture was alive. The Hindu traditions, the temples on every corner, and the deep-rooted spirituality commanded my respect. Despite the influx of tourism, the Balinese people held onto their traditions, welcoming everyone with open arms. That kind of warmth and calmness was something I had been missing.
The art community was equally inspiring. Seeing so many artists creating, collaborating, and bringing their visions to life was contagious, it pushed me to explore new creative ideas.
As I observed the contrast between digital nomads, cryptocurrency, and NFTs merging into a place so rich in tradition, I was surprised that it somehow still worked. These seemingly separate worlds had found a way to coexist. It was a powerful reminder to let go, embrace change, and trust that balance would emerge on its own.
This piece is a tribute to that experience, but more than that, it’s a tribute to Bali itself.
Artwork description
At the center stands a sacred banyan tree, its roots twisted deep in the soil, its branches transformed into towers, eyes, and spirals. In Bali, the banyan (pohon beringin) is holy: a dwelling of spirits, a gathering place for offerings, a bridge between ancestors below and gods above. Its vast roots embrace the underworld; its canopy touches the heavens. Here, it becomes not only a tree, but the whole cosmos embodied.
Around its trunk, coils spiral like guardians, shapes that recall naga serpents, protectors of water and thresholds, keepers of cycles. At its base, the earth opens into rice fields, carved in terraces that mirror the island’s volcanic slopes. Rice is not just food, it is the gift of Dewi Sri, the rice goddess, and every harvest is sanctified through offerings (banten). To see rice fields here is to see the lifeblood of Bali itself, the union of survival and spirituality.
Eyes bloom through the banyan’s form, multiplying across branches and towers. Each is a separate way of seeing, human, spirit, ancestor, god. Yet together they form a single vision: the deeper truth that sight is not only outward, but inward, into intuition and spirit.
Above, the red mask gazes down, the fierce face of Rangda, demon queen, embodiment of chaos and destructive power. Her eyes burn, her hands spread wide. She is not hidden, for the Balinese know that shadow is part of wholeness. Opposing her, hidden in coils and forms, is the energy of Barong, protector and guardian of harmony. Their eternal dance is the very balance of the universe: neither triumphs, for life depends on both.
The towers rising from the banyan’s branches are Meru shrines, tiered roofs climbing toward the sacred. In Balinese Hinduism, each odd-numbered tier honors a different deity, and the highest towers are reserved for the supreme. They stand here as extensions of the tree, showing that nature itself is temple, and temple itself is cosmos.
Colors blaze across the work as sacred language:
Red for Brahma, fire and creation,
Black for Vishnu, protection and preservation,
White for Shiva, destruction and purification.
Together these are Tridatu, the woven thread of all life, birth, preservation, and death, an endless cycle.
On the left, a symbol emerges resembling the number two. This is the Omkara, the sacred syllable of Bali, descended from Om, the primordial sound. It carries the essence of balance, duality, and divine origin. Like Rwa Bhineda, the principle of opposites, it reminds us that life is woven from tension: light and dark, creation and decay, sacred and ordinary.
Among the branches and clouds, crows appear. Dark, watchful, they are messengers between worlds, present at cremation rites, circling temples, symbols of death, transition, and the spirit realm. Here, they perch as witnesses to the eternal flow, reminding us that endings are also beginnings.
Clouds curl like incense smoke, rising between towers and eyes, as if the entire piece were an offering itself. Each element, tree, root, eye, tower, crow, is placed like a flower in a temple basket, an offering to gods and to the balance of life.
This is no mere image.
It is a banyan temple, alive with ancestors, gods, and myths.
It holds chaos and calm, shadow and light, earth and sky.
It is Bali itself:
eternal balance, endlessly reborn.
Process
- Sketched on paper.
- Scanned to digital
- Digital painted in photoshop
