Two current exhibitions at the Maui Arts & Cultural Center could not appear to be more different: a comforting world of wax paper clouds giving way to starkly surreal videos of mystery and unsettling dreams.

But when viewed together, Mary Babcock’s “Breaking Ground” and Laerke Lauta’s “Unconscious Nature” are perfect companions. The reason: Both artists dramatically explore environments we all share, then leave it up to viewers to write the conclusion.

“Both artists focus on conceptual-based work that moves in divergent directions, with a similarity in the outcome of ideas being open-ended, allowing us to select our own pathways with the influence of their creations,” said Neida Bangerter, director of the center’s Schaefer International Gallery. “They were a match to share the gallery space.”

Upon entering the gallery, visitors are directed through a doorway that unveils Babcock’s billowing tapestry of wax paper unfurled from the ceiling like low-hanging clouds. The artist, an associate professor in the Department of Art and Art History at the University of Hawaii at Manoa, used 200 rolls of wax paper – yes, the same kind you have in the kitchen – that she ripped, hand-stitched and ironed together in long swaths that form the 26-by-32-foot sensation. It took her a year to complete and three days to hang.

The idea came to Babcock when she was on the Oregon coast during an unexpected freeze that left streams covered in thin ice, though movement underneath was still visible. Watching the ice gradually melt and break apart, she was reminded of the Buddhist concept of “groundlessness.”

Viewing the tiny lights glowing through the draped ceiling is almost like looking at that icy stream, only upward. Layers of wax paper, torn and fused one atop the other, appear like river rocks shimmering under the “water” that’s overhead, creating beauty usually not associated with sandwich wrap.

To let this paper sky sink in, visitors can slip into a cubbyhole that Babcock devised and lined with thick pads of white cotton fiber she salvaged from medical bandages, creating the feel of being inside an igloo without the ice. It’s a welcome respite of silence and solitude.

Upon leaving this cocoon of Zen, visitors enter the enigmatic world of Lauta, who lives and works in Copenhagen, Denmark. Her collages, oils and mixed media on paper are shadowy dramas with as much hidden as revealed, making it impossible not to wonder what happened to the often faceless figures.

It turns out these small works of art are actually inspirations for the medium for which she is best known: arresting videos that have a strange, David Lynch quality to them. Walking from the display of paintings through a black velvet curtain, viewers come face to face with a double-screen, high-definition showing of “Pressure Drop,” a journey through a young woman’s subconscious. The barrage of images seem to have nothing to do with one another — or do they? In the adjoining space “Triad” features a day in the life of two sisters and an occasional ballerina.

There is no narrative, no speaking, no music, just a somewhat eerie soundtrack that adds to the intrigue. Both films have endings but no explanations. It’s up to the viewer to decide what they mean.

There’s a third artist at work here, too: Bangerter herself, whose dynamic installations of the artists’ pieces are as much a part of the experience as the works themselves. For each exhibition, Bangerter and her staff magically transform the four walls of the gallery into a completely new venue. She wants gallery visitors to not only observe the art, but to become part of it.

She certainly succeeds here, as both exhibitions chase the clutter of the daily grind from the mind, sending viewers home with impressions that linger. They might also feel an insurmountable urge to cover their ceilings with clouds of wax paper.