Chapel of Love emerged from that mysterious place where intuition overtakes analysis—where the rainforest becomes a cathedral and every brushstroke feels like a quiet act of prayer.

The emerald greens carry the living presence of the Panamanian jungle that surrounds the chapel where this work began. Layers of luminous gold leaf catch and release the light as the day changes, echoing shafts of sunlight filtering through the canopy after tropical rain. Flecks of sky blue appear like glimpses of heaven breaking through the leaves, inviting the eye to wander, pause, and breathe.

Every layer preserves the memory of what came before. Nothing is erased. Transparent veils, hidden marks and unexpected textures remain beneath the surface, quietly contributing to the whole—just as every joy, sorrow, hope and act of love shapes who we become.

Painting this work marked a profound moment in my own journey. For the first time, I was creating within a consecrated chapel, allowing the sacredness of the space, the surrounding forest and the rhythm of music to guide my hands. Rather than trying to paint a chapel, I found myself painting what a chapel feels like—a sanctuary where heaven and earth seem to meet.

Leonardo da Vinci wrote that “the painter has the universe in his mind and hands.” Those words have become a quiet companion in my practice. Painting has become less about control and more about listening—allowing nature, beauty and something infinitely wiser than the analytical mind to guide each gesture.

To me, the Chapel of Love is not a building.

It is a state of being.

It is the quiet place within us where fear softens into trust, where beauty becomes a form of prayer, and where divine illumination gently reveals itself through the ordinary. It is the unseen sanctuary that exists whenever we choose love over fear, wonder over certainty, and presence over distraction.

My role is simply to pay attention.

To listen.

And to allow the light to find its own way through the leaves.