Can order and intuition become a form of love?
What the Garden Allows. 12 x 12 inches. Acrylic on wood panel
Can order and intuition become a form of love?
What the Garden Allows. 12 x 12 inches. Acrylic on wood panel
Working with compression, gathering, and movement through density.
Gathering. 12 inches square. Acrylic on wood.
Gathering. Detail.
Gathering. Moving through.
Passage. 12 x 12 inches. Acrylic on wood panel.
A moment of pressure, alive with movement.
Emergence. 12 x 12 inches. Acrylic on wood panel.
I painted through the fear of losing what was there, until the layers held together as one.
Radiance. 12 × 12 in. Acrylic on wood panel
The allure of escape in the beauty and danger of flowers.
Microdot Meadow. 12 inches square. Oil on canvas.
Overblown Rose. 12 inches square. Oil on canvas.
Vortex Poppy. 12 inches square. Oil on canvas.
Cooked Peony. 12 inches square. Oil on wood.
Fever Lick. 12 inches square. Acrylic on wood.
Nocturnal Sweet Rot. 12 inches square. Oil on wood.
Lucidity. 12 inches square. Oil on wood.
Raw Magnolia. 12 inches square. Oil on wood.
The energy of flowers in a vase, painted from life.
As I scratched into the surface with my fingers, I let the energy in me, in the flowers, and in the space between us move through me.
Oil on canvas. 16 x 20 inches.
Spending hours with a single flower in grayscale, I stop seeing petals and start seeing light, weight, and quiet. In that stillness, my attention deepens into presence.
Work in progress. “Flower 1, Value study.” Oil on canvas.
I’ve been painting the same apple for a month. At first, it was just a symbol. Then a feeling. Then I really started to see it. The more I focused, the more it revealed color, texture, stillness, energy.
Week after week, the skin and shape of the apple changed. Somehow, feeling, form, and process all found their way into the painting.
Is there something in your life that reveals more as it ages?
What if everything we see is just the beginning—and every form holds something deeper, something we can feel?
This is a photo of a cauliflower. It shows the form—how it looks to the eye. We notice shape, texture, and pattern. But this is only the surface.
This sketch is my human interpretation of the actual cauliflower. Sketching helps us slow down and observe. When we draw, we begin to notice energy: movement, connection, and flow.
”Form Bloom.” Oil on canvas. 36” square. Here is my abstract painting of the cauliflower’s energy. It’s not about how it looks, but its aliveness. This painting reveals my sense of the invisible energy within the form, rising and unfolding.
What do you see when you look at the world? What do you feel? ”Form Bloom” invites you to notice both—and to remember that every form is also a doorway into energy.