12 × 12 oil on board, part of the “More Than Words” collection
The word is in this painting. You just can’t see it.
Soft pink and violet, drifting into each other like something half-remembered. Then those dark, sweeping strokes cut straight across before I’d decided whether to stop them.
I have always been a dreamer. Dreaming is how I got here — how I survive the hard days and celebrate the good ones. Like painting, it’s both escape and medicine. My dreams don’t always come with a plan, and that’s okay. They just have to be big enough to follow.
12 × 12 oil on board, part of the “More Than Words” collection
The word is in this painting. You just can’t see it.
Soft pink and violet, drifting into each other like something half-remembered. Then those dark, sweeping strokes cut straight across before I’d decided whether to stop them.
I have always been a dreamer. Dreaming is how I got here — how I survive the hard days and celebrate the good ones. Like painting, it’s both escape and medicine. My dreams don’t always come with a plan, and that’s okay. They just have to be big enough to follow.
