36” × 36” 3-Dimensional Oil
There’s something about low clouds—how they can soften a skyline, like a weighted blanket over the noise. That’s where this painting landed for me. It started with the calm of being up high, where everything feels quiet, like looking out from a skyscraper or floating in a hot air balloon. The palette knife pulled that stillness into place—layer by layer, like fog rolling in.
But then the forms started to rise unexpectedly, a bit architectural, almost like a castle drifting through the clouds. It felt both grounded and completely untethered. That’s the balance I was after quiet in the middle of chaos, structure inside the softness.
It’s not a memory, but a mood—something suspended. A reminder that even in the thick of it, there can be calm. And sometimes, what feels heavy also holds you.
36” × 36” 3-Dimensional Oil
There’s something about low clouds—how they can soften a skyline, like a weighted blanket over the noise. That’s where this painting landed for me. It started with the calm of being up high, where everything feels quiet, like looking out from a skyscraper or floating in a hot air balloon. The palette knife pulled that stillness into place—layer by layer, like fog rolling in.
But then the forms started to rise unexpectedly, a bit architectural, almost like a castle drifting through the clouds. It felt both grounded and completely untethered. That’s the balance I was after quiet in the middle of chaos, structure inside the softness.
It’s not a memory, but a mood—something suspended. A reminder that even in the thick of it, there can be calm. And sometimes, what feels heavy also holds you.
