Cosmos from Chaos Waterprint
2023
Oil, Flashe, ink and water, on canvas
58 “ x 84” / 147 × 213 cm
This painting came out of the quiet, infinite hours spent nursing my child. In those moments, I felt both entirely grounded in the body and stretched out into something cosmic—like creation itself was pulsing through me.
I worked in deep magentas and iridescent golds—colors that held both the tenderness and the intensity of that time. The swirling forms emerged slowly, almost like breath. I wasn’t trying to control them. I was following the rhythm I knew in my body, the one passed between mother and child.
There’s chaos in it—layers that clash and flow, lines that dissolve. But also a kind of order. A warmth. A sense that from all the mess and emotion and surrender, something radiant can take shape.Price on request
2023
Oil, Flashe, ink and water, on canvas
58 “ x 84” / 147 × 213 cm
This painting came out of the quiet, infinite hours spent nursing my child. In those moments, I felt both entirely grounded in the body and stretched out into something cosmic—like creation itself was pulsing through me.
I worked in deep magentas and iridescent golds—colors that held both the tenderness and the intensity of that time. The swirling forms emerged slowly, almost like breath. I wasn’t trying to control them. I was following the rhythm I knew in my body, the one passed between mother and child.
There’s chaos in it—layers that clash and flow, lines that dissolve. But also a kind of order. A warmth. A sense that from all the mess and emotion and surrender, something radiant can take shape.Price on request
2023
Oil, Flashe, ink and water, on canvas
58 “ x 84” / 147 × 213 cm
This painting came out of the quiet, infinite hours spent nursing my child. In those moments, I felt both entirely grounded in the body and stretched out into something cosmic—like creation itself was pulsing through me.
I worked in deep magentas and iridescent golds—colors that held both the tenderness and the intensity of that time. The swirling forms emerged slowly, almost like breath. I wasn’t trying to control them. I was following the rhythm I knew in my body, the one passed between mother and child.
There’s chaos in it—layers that clash and flow, lines that dissolve. But also a kind of order. A warmth. A sense that from all the mess and emotion and surrender, something radiant can take shape.Price on request