The Unfolding
“I think of color as music—the shapes are the rhythm, the layers are the harmony, and the canvas is where they all come together.”
— Michael John Valentine
The Unfolding is an exploration of movement, transformation, and the moment when one form begins to reveal another. Part of my A Symphony of Organic Forms series, this original abstract work brings together vivid color, spiraling forms, layered textures, and energetic marks to create a composition that feels as though it is continually changing before the eye.
The title The Unfolding reflects the way the painting developed as much as what it ultimately became. Rather than presenting a fixed image with an obvious beginning and end, the composition suggests a process in motion. Forms seem to emerge from one another, colors flow into neighboring areas, and the central spiral creates the sensation of something gradually opening outward.
There is a natural rhythm to that movement.
The spiral is one of the most enduring forms in nature. It appears in shells, flowers, storms, waves, and countless other organic structures. It represents growth without requiring a straight line. It curves, expands, returns upon itself, and continues outward. In The Unfolding, I use that familiar visual language as a foundation for something much more abstract.
The spiral becomes a kind of visual melody.
Around it, the composition begins to build.
Brilliant yellows and greens move across the upper portion of the painting, while blues, purples, reds, and deeper tones create contrast throughout the surrounding areas. Instead of allowing one color to dominate completely, I wanted the colors to interact—to overlap, interrupt, echo, and reappear. The result is a surface filled with visual conversation.
That relationship between the elements is what connects The Unfolding to the musical idea behind the larger A Symphony of Organic Forms series.
When I think about music, I don’t think only about individual notes. I think about what happens between them—the rhythm, repetition, tension, contrast, and release. A painting can work in much the same way. A small mark can function like a percussion note. A sweeping curve can become a sustained musical phrase. A field of color can establish the mood, while a sudden contrasting passage creates emphasis.
In The Unfolding, these visual elements work together much like instruments in an ensemble.
Nothing exists entirely on its own.
The curved forms lead the eye toward the center and then back outward. Small marks and speckles add another level of rhythm across the surface. Larger areas of color establish a visual foundation, while smaller details create interruptions and accents. The eye moves through the composition much like a listener moves through a piece of music.
There are moments of intensity.
There are moments of pause.
And there is always another visual passage waiting to be discovered.
That sense of discovery is important to my approach to abstract art. I don’t want to create an image that gives everything away immediately. I want the painting to reward time. From across the room, The Unfolding presents itself as an energetic composition of color and form. As you move closer, additional layers, marks, textures, and relationships begin to reveal themselves.
The painting changes depending upon how you experience it.
That is where the title becomes especially meaningful.
An unfolding is not an event that happens all at once. It is a gradual revelation. One thing opens and leads to another. Something hidden becomes visible. A familiar form can become something unexpected simply because you have allowed yourself enough time to see it differently.
That idea has always appealed to me as an artist.
The process of creating a painting can itself be an unfolding. I may begin with an idea about composition, color, or structure, but the canvas inevitably begins to influence the direction of the work. One layer changes the relationship with another. A color may become more important than originally intended. A mark may suggest a new direction. Something that seemed finished may need another layer.
The painting develops its own momentum.
The Unfolding captures that process.
The surface contains a mixture of controlled structure and spontaneous energy. The central spiral provides a sense of order, while the surrounding colors and marks introduce movement and unpredictability. This balance between structure and freedom is part of what makes abstract painting so compelling to me.
I am not trying to reproduce a specific scene from nature.
I am interested in capturing the feeling of natural movement.
There is something almost musical about the way a leaf opens, a wave curls, a shell spirals, or a flower moves toward full bloom. These processes contain repetition, variation, and rhythm. They are never completely static.
That same quality lives within The Unfolding.
The painting invites the viewer to imagine what might exist beyond the visible forms. The spiral could suggest a natural object, a celestial movement, or simply a pathway into the imagination. The surrounding colors can be read as landscape, energy, atmosphere, or something entirely personal.
There is no single required interpretation.
Instead, the work offers an experience.
As part of A Symphony of Organic Forms, The Unfolding represents the idea that abstraction can have its own visual rhythm. Color can carry emotion. Lines can create movement. Texture can provide emphasis. Repetition can establish harmony. And a single organic form can become the starting point for an entire visual composition.
Ultimately, The Unfolding is about becoming.
It is about the moment when something begins to reveal its character, its energy, and its possibilities. Like a musical composition gradually building from its opening notes, the painting develops through layers of color, shape, texture, and movement until the individual elements become part of something larger.
The canvas becomes the stage.
The colors become the instruments.
The forms become the rhythm.
And The Unfolding becomes the composition.
