Field Note No. 02 – Raidho, the sacred journey

Raidho (ᚱ) — the rune of the road, rhythm, and right motion. I use this rune a lot in my art, since it signifies what we all do every day: walk our path, journey through the seasons, mark life’s passages.

It speaks of movement not just through space, but through purpose — the sacred act of aligning one’s path with divine order. In ancient times, Raidho marked the rider’s journey and the turning of the wheel of life, a reminder that every step taken in rhythm with the cosmos becomes a form of prayer. In the modern sense, it invites mindful travel — to move with intention, to trust timing, to steer the inner vehicle with both discipline and grace. When Raidho appears, it asks: Are you simply moving, or are you being moved by something greater?

Field Note No. 01 — On Returning to the Work

Every creative cycle has a quiet beginning — not a flash of inspiration, but a pause. When the noise of the day fades, I start to notice the materials again: the weight of the paper, the drag of the pen, the way graphite leaves a trace like breath on glass.

Lately I’ve been drawing without an agenda, just following lines to see where they lead. A curve becomes an antler, a mark starts to suggest motion, and soon there’s a form I didn’t intend but somehow recognize. The best work always arrives that way — when the hand is busy and the mind has stopped narrating.

The studio feels like a conversation between attention and accident. There are half-finished prints drying by the window, sketches of Vale’s instruments on the desk, a page from the Astral Cabinet pinned to the wall. Each reminds me that returning to the work isn’t about starting over — it’s about re-entering the dialogue.