Warlimpirrnga Tjapaltjarri made this painting, Tingari (Men’s Dreaming), sometime around the turn of the millennium with what looks like synthetic polymer paint on canvas. I love the simple palette of orange and black. There’s something so meditative about the repetitive mark-making, like a visual mantra. Each square is built from concentric lines, a kind of visual echo, as if the artist is mapping out space but also time, with each line a moment, a breath, a step. Look closely, and you can see the hand of the artist in the slight imperfections, the subtle wobbles of the lines, adding a human touch to the geometric structure. It makes me think of Agnes Martin, but with a grounded, earthy quality. I can imagine Tjapaltjarri, sitting on the ground, patiently building up these forms, connecting to something ancient and eternal. The overall effect is not just a painting, but a portal, an invitation to lose yourself in the rhythm and mystery of the Tingari.