In a world that worships explanation, there lies a more ancient language—the one spoken in shape, color, and pulse. Before thought, before speech, we saw. Not with eyes alone, but with the whole being. Vision was not perception, but communion. This work emerges from that forgotten grammar. It does not argue. It unveils. It does not tell you what to think—it invites you into the shape of knowing itself. A spiral, a root, an iris staring back: these are not metaphors—they are meanings. Here, you do not decode—you remember. You do not understand—you recognize. This is art as epistemology. Psychedelic not for style, but for sincerity. Sacred not for belief, but because it touches the place before belief. So—don’t listen. See. DYSWIM (Do You See What I Mean) by Nuwan Shilpa Hennayake