In the midst of an edgeless pine forest, a soul may feel itself momentarily lost. A wanderer may draw breath, searching for direction, under the bristling staccato of a wind-tossed canopy endlessly striving for the sky. Pinpricks of needleleaf fragrance fill the air. Conjuring this ever-mirroring landscape, Pineta undulates with chevron peaks and unfolding possibility. For soon, gaze rising, a traveller in these woods is free to let their thoughts soar – higher, higher – up to the heavens, following the tips of the pine-feathered trees to the place where all dreaming begins.