One bright Wednesday afternoon, I walked down a tree -lined street with fresh white peonies wrapped in kraft paper. Dahae opened the door to her home studio. Fresh out of the shower. There she was, exactly how I knew she’d be, a mirroring soul as striking as water reflecting a morning alpenglow. We didn’t have to say much to one another, but shared in abundance excitedly, as if two lost doves found one another after many seasons apart. We had so much to say and yet shared even more greatly in silent moments in between words.

There feels a lack in the human spectrum of emotion that we have assigned a name to. It’s a knowing that is only felt and has no language to define it. Permeating in silence, its energy radiates and brings knowledge back to the open spirit. At that moment of return, the open spirit ascends into an infinite love. The sacred bond between two open spirits cannot be described in words. It can only be felt.

That Wednesday I felt Dahae’s ethereal spirit and they communicated through the divine brushstroke.