Neighborhood Showoff

This one is important to me, Maybe that’s why it came together without overthinking, without questioning every stroke.

I laid most of them down with a giant brush and let hem be. They spoke for themselves.

My mom’s birthday just passed, and between that and Mother’s Day, she had been heavily on my mind. My grandfather once gave her a snowball bush, and as a child I was mesmerized by those giant blooms.

My neighbors created a beautiful little park at the end of our street, and tucked inside it is a GIANT snowball bush. I snapped a picture when it was in full bloom, grabbed my paintbrush and hoped for the best.

I think mom would have been proud.

Just Checking In

I’ve never actually seen a bear…so I paint them instead.

A friend told me a story about a bear breaking into her car and going straight for the cooler. It was empty…but her upholstery and headreast didn’t fare so well.

My first question wasn’t “Were your doors locked?” Or even “Did it smell like salmon?”

It was “Did you see him? Because I’ve always wanted to. From a distance of course.

Even at our cabin in the North Georgia mountains…neighbors have stories. Sightings. Close calls. Not me.

So I paint them. I give them a little persoality, a little charrm and imagine them hanging on the walls of someone else’s cabin.

“Just Checking In” is available even when the real ones are not.

Mixed media on canvas/ 30 x 30/ $2100

Holding Their Own

Three white peonies on a bold blue background- not exactly a setting that lets anything hide.

I’ve always found flowers a little elusive to paint…their softness, their movement, the way the light just slips through them. It never feels easy to do them justice.

But these didn’t seem interested in being delicate or overlooked.

They showed up, held their ground, and somehow made all that blue feel like it belonged to them.

Between Lavender and Light →

I painted this piece as an invitation - into a place I long to step inside. A life lived a little slower, where sunlight lingers on clay walls and time seems willing to wait.

The lavander-blue shutters and warm terra cotta beckon, while a mother and daughter pass through carrying bright blooms - small reminders that beauty is often held in the simplest moments.

This painting is less about a street in Provence and more about a rythm of living: unhurried, attentive, and grateful for the light that gathers in ordinary days.