This piece is a visual myth—where the cosmic meets the ancient, and the forest becomes a place of contact.

At the top, an otherworldly object hovers—an alien form, a visitor, maybe even a vessel. It feels like it’s arrived with purpose, hovering not to invade, but to connect. Beneath it, rooted in the earth, is the stag skull—an ancient shamanic presence. A guardian. A sentinel of the forest. It doesn’t confront the unknown; it holds space for it. It watches. It remembers.

Between them is a ritual path—a mirrored symmetry of trees and moonlight. These reflections aren’t just visual. They’re thresholds. Portals. As if reality is peeling back in layers, inviting both visitor and viewer to cross over.

This image is about contact—not just between species, but between worlds, eras, dimensions. The stag spirit represents the terrestrial soul—deep time, memory, intuition. The object above, a symbol of the unknown, of curiosity and change. Together, they form a dialogue. A quiet ceremony of recognition.

The forest isn’t passive here. It’s alive. A sacred place where boundaries blur. A temple of moss, shadow, and light, opening itself as host to something unprecedented: a cosmic communion with the ancient.