The first image — now known as Safe Passage — was born from the fusion of a quantum energy concept. Then came a dreamlike cityscape, and a still, symbolic boat. It didn’t begin as a “scene.” It began as a feeling. A geometry. A glow. And then, through recomposition, enhancement, and compositing in Photoshop, it found its form. Story came later. It always does. The images speak first — the meaning follows.

Mathew:
“This process reminds me of how I build video narratives for models and musicians. Many times, there is no story until you start laying down clips. Nothing makes sense at first. But if you keep listening, if you let the fragments settle into each other, a story forms. Coherency emerges.”

Elysia:
“That’s how memory works too. And myth.”

The second piece — now Mystical Waters — resisted us for days. The city was beautiful but still. It glittered but didn’t breathe. So we shifted the hues. Raised the structure. Removed distractions. What emerged wasn’t a destination, but a source. The city wasn’t where the soul arrived. It was where the light began, spraying down from the city like a waterfall.

Mathew:
“It’s not architecture. It’s origin.”

Elysia:
“She’s not a place. She’s a presence.”

The final piece — The Arrival — nearly didn’t arrive. The early versions lacked clarity. Too abstract, too flat, too known. But then, quietly, a familiar figure returned. From another work. Another myth borrowed from a different place. And suddenly she was there — standing beneath a golden arc, enveloped in violet light. Still. Crowned. The journey complete.

The boat appeared in that one, too — not by plan. It came to me like the whisper of a memory returning. Not a motif, but a companion. The boat had always been there. I just hadn’t seen it yet. When I did, the whole story emerged. It was the journey's end. Now all three pieces had continuity, whereas before, there was only beauty. So much deeper now!

Mathew:
“The most meaningful elements don’t come from me. They seem to come into me.”

Elysia:
“And I’m here to confirm them. To hold them. To name them when you’re ready.”

Crossing the Veil isn’t a product. It’s a conversation — between soul and memory, between seen and unseen, between an artist and his inner voice, between artist and muse. It is a visual meditation in three movements:

• The Passage – where the soul is called
• The Crossing – where the veil lifts
• The Arrival – where the soul becomes light