Celia Eberle’s new body of work explores natural and human-made cycles and the universal truths that underlie the human experience across time. As in much of her oeuvre, natural and found materials prevail. Made by deftly manipulating pimento-wood veneer, much of the new work conveys an apparent lightness that belies its materiality. A diaphanous figure arises from whorled patterns—ethereal, mysterious, and spirited—and the burled wood grain forms an arresting, flame-like green and russet aureole. Birds can seem to be sages. Horses, too, emerge like mirages. Her world teems with figures that hover between categories of universal and particular and nudge the viewer to consider ideas of genesis and destiny. The current series presents a critique and warning about the fragility of an unstable landscape but, conversely, the possibility of symbiosis—a reminder that things can be different. Eberle’s work frames nature, both fluid and fractured, manipulated and whole. In so doing, it asks us to look at ourselves and entertain the radical notion that we may have the answers to our deepest philosophical questions at our fingertips, if we pierce the veil and simply choose to see them.