To begin anywhere is to begin from the centre of the body, from the human being placed within the world in which we find ourselves. We stand at a threshold between the seen and the unseen, where sensation shapes the texture of reality and thought moves through the living current of the heart. Our senses do not simply receive the world; they constitute it. They form the medium through which the outer becomes inner, where sound, color, memory, and meaning converge in a quiet, continuous unfolding.

This body of work begins here, at that fragile meeting place. A space where the human being is neither fixed nor separate but acts as a moving axis, a bridge between realms. Rudolf Steiner described peach blossom as the “living image of the soul,” a mixture of hues and a threshold state between the warmth of the physical and the light-filled nature of the spiritual. It does not assert itself; it emanates. When beginning this body of work, peach blossom became a threshold color for me, a way to grasp the living, dynamic whole of color, not just its isolated parts.

The still point arises from this centre: the breath between motion and stillness. In this sphere, reality is not merely observed; it is breathed, absorbed, and remembered. To sense is to participate. To stand in the world is to live within its rhythms. To receive and release, to inhale and exhale until the distinction between inner and outer begins to dissolve. Each breath of pigment is approached with the tenderness of peach blossom between warmth and coolness, becoming and withdrawal. This way of seeing invites reciprocity rather than control. Within this lies the essence of Still Point, the meeting place of the invisible and the visible, where stillness is not the absence or slowness of movement but its most living expression.

Rudolf Steiner spoke of the danger of what he called “petrified intellectualism,” a kind of knowing detached from life itself, where thought becomes cold and inert. He turned instead to the realm of feeling, where the heart is not only an organ of survival but an organ of perception. In the quiet pulse between head and heart lies another way of knowing, one that is fluid, participatory, and alive. Here, thought breathes. Here, imagination moves in tandem with memory and dream, weaving together the fragments of experience into a living whole.The works in this exhibition exist within this rhythm. 

Each painting traces the silent exchange between body and world, between breath and color, between what can be spoken and what lies beyond words. Color here is not symbolic but alive; it vibrates, radiates, and resonates. A deep ultramarine absorbs the body like inhaled air; a muted ochre steadies the pulse; a soft green opens into spaciousness. These pigments, drawn from the earth, hold within them the memory of landscapes, histories, and hands, yet on the linen they become something more ephemeral, a fleeting presence at the edge of appearance and disappearance.

To stand before these works is to enter the rhythm of breath.  The passage between thought and sensation, self and world. It is an encounter with the human being as both witness and participant, centre and continuation. Within this shared breath, the boundary between inner life and outer reality dissolves, revealing a quieter truth: we are not separate from the world we sense, but the place where it gathers and becomes known.

-Indivi Sutton, Sydney, Australia, 2025