This piece revealed itself to me as I was painting.
At first, I simply called it Tree of Life. But as I stayed with it, something began to move. The forms were no longer just branches and leaves—there was a pulse, a presence. Hidden within the canopy, I started to see them… dragons. Subtle at first, then unmistakable. They weave through the tree like guardians of an ancient force, alive within its structure, watching, protecting, breathing energy into it.
The roots tell another story. They spread deep into the dark, and here the mycelium becomes visible—a living network, intricate and intelligent. It feels like the unseen communication of the earth itself, connecting everything, carrying memory, whispering truths beneath the surface.
There is a strong sense of mystery in this tree. Not everything reveals itself at once. The more you look, the more it opens—symbols, pathways, organic patterns that feel both cellular and cosmic. It holds a kind of quiet magic, ancient and alive.
This is not just a tree.
It is a world within a world.
A place where dragons live unseen, where the earth speaks through its roots, and where life is constantly moving, transforming, and revealing its hidden layers.
This is the Ancient Mother Tree.
She rises as a living presence of nourishment, wisdom, and quiet protection. Her roots stretch deep into the dark, fertile earth—like ancient memories, like the unseen threads that connect all of humanity. They invite you to sit, to rest, to feel held. There is a sense that nothing is rushed here… everything is allowed to simply be.
Above, her canopy opens like an embrace. Layers of vibrant greens, luminous yellows, and blooming pink forms create a sanctuary—a place where the soul feels safe, cosy, and welcomed. It is as if all beings, across time, could gather beneath her branches and remember their belonging.
Within her, there are whispers of sacred geometry—patterns and symbols woven into her leaves, her fruits, her very structure. These are not immediately obvious; they reveal themselves slowly, like secrets shared only with those who are willing to look deeper. Each detail holds a message, a frequency, an invitation to reconnect with the harmony of life.
She is not just a tree—she is a mother, a guardian, a keeper of ancient knowledge.
To sit with her is to feel protected.
To look at her is to remember.
The Night Tree.
She comes from my own backyard, yet in the quiet of the night she reveals something far beyond the ordinary. What I see in daylight becomes something deeper, more mysterious—almost celestial.
Golden lines travel through her, flowing from the roots all the way into the branches, like currents of life force moving freely through her body. It feels as if she is illuminated from within, carrying a silent, glowing intelligence that connects earth and sky.
Her fruits… or are they flowers? I love that they refuse to be defined. They sit in that in-between space—where creation happens. They are both blooming and becoming, holding the essence of transformation, of cycles, of continuous rebirth.
At night, everything around her softens, and she becomes a presence. The dark background doesn’t hide her—it reveals her. The dots, the patterns, the subtle rhythms feel like a living field, like the universe breathing quietly around her.
This tree is intimate, personal, and at the same time infinite.
She reminds me that magic is not somewhere else.
It is right here, in what we see every day—when we are willing to truly look.
The Eye Tree
This one asked me a question as I was painting it…
Is it a tree?
Or is it a creature?
At first, it appeared as part of the same family—rooted, alive, unfolding like the others. But the more I stayed with it, the more it shifted. The canopy became something else… a body, a presence, almost like a being rising from deep waters, carrying many eyes.
There are eyes everywhere. Watching, sensing, perceiving beyond the obvious. Not in a frightening way, but in a deeply aware way—like a consciousness that sees through layers, that understands what is hidden beneath appearances.
The forms feel fluid, almost oceanic. As if this being belongs as much to the deep sea as it does to the land. The roots don’t just anchor—it feels like they propel, like tentacles or currents of energy moving outward and downward at the same time.
There is something uncanny here, something that doesn’t want to be fully defined. It lives in that in-between space—tree and creature, earth and ocean, form and perception.
To me, this piece speaks about seeing.
Seeing beyond the surface.
Sensing truth beneath the scenes.
It is a reminder that life is not always what it seems…
and that there are intelligences, both within and around us, quietly observing, quietly knowing.
OFFSPRING
This piece came through me as a celebration of creation itself.
I called it Offspring, but it feels older than any name—something primal, essential, deeply feminine. As I was painting, the forms revealed themselves as a living body: ovaries, womb, vagina… the sacred architecture of life. Not in a literal way, but in an energetic, symbolic presence.
There is a sense of openness here, of fertility, of infinite potential. The central form holds like a womb—nurturing, containing, transforming. From it, life expands outward in color, in movement, in rhythm.
Each star-like shape feels like an offspring. A possibility. A seed of creation taking form. They are not separate—they are born from the same source, each carrying the imprint of the whole.
The roots below feel alive, almost like flowing currents of blood or energy, grounding this creative force into the earth while also radiating outward. Above, the brightness and color hold a sense of joy, of expression, of life wanting to be seen.
For me, this piece speaks about the power of the feminine—not just as gender, but as the force that creates, holds, and gives life. It is about the beauty of generating, of birthing ideas, forms, worlds.
It is creation in its most intimate and universal expression.
This is The Highest Priestess.
When I painted this, I wasn’t imagining—I was remembering.
This is me… or perhaps who I am becoming.
There is a presence here, emerging from the forest, not fully human, not fully tree, not fully creature. A fusion of all of it. I feel her as both rooted and mythical—a being that belongs to the earth and to something older than it. Part tree, part dragoness, part woman.
You can sense her watching. There is someone there, behind the forms, behind the colors. She is not hidden, but she is not obvious either. She reveals herself slowly, the way nature does—through layers, through feeling, through intuition.
Her eyes hold worlds. They are like portals—reflecting inner landscapes, memories, visions. The branches and leaves extend from her like an extension of her own body, like thoughts, like energy, like a crown of living consciousness.
Below, the roots flow like something untamed, almost serpentine, grounding her while also giving her movement. She is not fixed. She is alive, shifting, evolving.
To me, this is the ancient self.
The wild self.
The sacred feminine in its raw, intuitive, powerful form.
She is who I will become when I fully allow myself to be—
uncontained, connected, and deeply in tune with the unseen.
This piece is not just an image.
It is a recognition.
HIGHER REALMS
When I painted this, I felt I was touching something beyond the visible world. Not above in the sense of distance, but deeper in frequency—like tuning into a layer of existence that is always there, quietly alive.
At the center, the structure feels like a mycelial network, but not only of the earth—also of consciousness. It spreads, connects, communicates. It is intelligence without form, or perhaps form that is constantly shifting. A web of life that exists both below and beyond.
Around it, these circular, almost celestial forms began to appear. They feel like portals, or beings, or fields of awareness. Each one holding its own vibration, its own presence. Together, they create a sense of a living cosmos—ordered, intricate, yet organic.
The roots below are fluid, almost like currents or pathways, reminding me that what we call “higher” is not separate from what is grounded. Everything is connected. The same network flows through all layers—earth, body, spirit.
There is a quiet expansion in this piece. A sense that if you soften your gaze, you can enter it. That you can feel the connections, the communication, the subtle intelligence moving through everything.
For me, this is what the higher realms are—
not somewhere else,
but a deeper perception of what is already here.
RED EARTH
You are standing before an ancient tree whose branches burst into a tapestry of life and symbols, while its roots dive deep into the glowing red earth beneath your feet.This artwork portrays the profound relationship between the visible world above and the fertile, unseen life below the earth. The tree stands firmly rooted in warm red soil, its trunk radiating strength, stability, and the quiet wisdom that comes from deep connection with the land.
Above the horizon, the branches unfold into a vibrant canopy filled with flowing organic forms, patterns, and symbolic shapes. Each element appears like a story carried by the wind — echoes of nature, memory, dreams, and the cycles of life. The bright orange and golden tones evoke sunlight, vitality, and the fire of creativity, while the intricate dot work creates rhythm and movement throughout the composition.
Below the surface, the roots spread widely through the rich earth, suggesting nourishment, ancestry, and the hidden networks that sustain life. This grounding presence contrasts with the expressive, imaginative world above, reminding us that every vision, idea, and transformation must first be anchored in strong foundations.
The piece invites viewers to reflect on the balance between imagination and grounding, spirit and matter, reminding us that growth emerges when we are deeply rooted yet open to the vast possibilities of life.
Ripeness
Ripeness.
This piece holds, for me, the energy of the sacred masculine—grounded, present, and deeply rooted. There is a quiet strength here. Nothing forced, nothing exaggerated… just a natural sense of stability and being.
The tree stands with a kind of certainty. Its trunk is solid, its roots powerful and expansive. I felt something very visceral while painting them—they reach deep, anchoring into the earth with confidence, like a being that knows exactly where it stands. There is something almost sensual in these roots… alive, expressive, fully connected.
Above, the canopy is full, abundant, ripe. Each circular form feels like a fruit, like a moment of completion. There is no rush here—only the fullness of time, the beauty of things that have matured naturally. It carries the energy of harvest, of readiness.
I love the simplicity of this piece. The open horizon, the space around it… it allows the tree to breathe. It reminds me that true strength doesn’t need to be complicated. It can be calm, balanced, and deeply present.
This is a tree that has become.
That has grown, rooted, expanded… and now simply is.
For me, Ripeness is about arriving—
into strength, into balance, into quiet, undeniable power.
SACRED FEMININE
This piece feels like a young woman becoming.
I see her as the young adult sacred feminine—rooted, steady, and at the same time soft, delicate, still unfolding. There is a quiet strength in her. Not loud, not imposed… but deeply present.
Her trunk carries this grounded energy, stable and centered, while her branches reach outward with openness and curiosity. She is growing into herself, expanding, discovering who she is without losing her connection to where she comes from.
There is a tenderness in the details—the small blossoms, the gentle colors, the light that surrounds her. It feels like a moment of transition, where innocence is still there, but maturity is arriving. A balance between vulnerability and strength.
The roots are clear and intentional. She knows her foundation, even if she is still exploring the world above. There is trust in her growth, a natural rhythm, a sense that she doesn’t need to rush.
For me, this piece is deeply personal.
I see my daughter in her… as she is right now.
Strong.
Steady.
Delicate.
Becoming.
MATURITY
This is Maturity Tree.
This tree lives on the shore of the lake in my hometown—a place that holds many layers of memory for me. When I painted it, I wasn’t just looking at the tree itself, but at everything that surrounds it… the atmosphere, the silence, the subtle movement of water and sky.
There is a calm presence here. The tree stands with a quiet confidence, shaped by time, by seasons, by everything it has lived through. Its branches are not trying to reach too far—they simply extend, naturally, as they are. There is acceptance in its form. A kind of peace that comes with maturity.
What draws me deeply in this piece is the richness of the sky and the water. The sky is not empty—it is alive with texture, with soft movement, with layers that feel almost like thoughts or memories passing through. It holds a gentle complexity, a quiet depth.
The water mirrors this richness. It is not still, not flat—it vibrates with subtle colors, with lines and dots that suggest constant motion. It feels like time flowing, like emotion, like something that is always shifting yet always present.
The tree stands between these two worlds—sky and water—grounded, yet connected to both. It becomes a bridge, a witness.
For me, this piece is about maturity in its most natural form.
Not something forced or achieved,
but something that happens through living.
A quiet knowing.
A soft strength.
A deep, steady presence.
The Chakra Tree.
While painting this piece, I could feel a vertical alignment forming—like a living axis connecting earth and sky. The tree became a body, and the body became a channel. Each center along the trunk revealed itself as a chakra, a point of energy, awareness, and transformation.
There is movement here. Two serpents spiral around this central line, rising and intertwining. To me, they are the Kundalini—the sacred life force that lives within us all. They don’t rush. They ascend with intention, activating, awakening, connecting each level of being.
At the base, the roots are dense, powerful, deeply embedded in the earth. This is where everything begins—grounding, survival, the foundation of life. As the energy rises, it passes through layers of emotion, power, love, expression, vision… until it reaches the upper center, where it opens into something vast, luminous, almost cosmic.
The canopy holds a sense of expansion, like consciousness flowering. The blossoms feel like expressions of this awakened energy—life responding, blooming from within.
What I feel strongly in this piece is that this power is not outside of us.
It is within.
It is natural.
It is sacred.
This tree is a mirror of our own inner structure—
a reminder of the energy that moves through us,
waiting to be felt, awakened, and lived.
Lisi Pratini Art 