
Only the sky above.

Only the sky above.

At times I see myself in thee.
Cycle
Night repeating as burned out day. Floating above dream’s breath. A loop then ride before the flames.

I am awake in the dark, pretending otherwise. Breathing slow, remaining still. Dread crawls the ladder of my spine.


Moving forward with a little bit of rain.

A simple painting of tranquility.

The beginning of a new series of paintings. Having spent my life in the Northwest, I have seen a lot of rain.

Where shall you take us?
There is a spark I feel and it is a precious thing. As the building crumbles the fire flares inside. I am a painter, an art form dead generations before. I don’t care the flame shall be nurtured, it calls my name.

As the name implies this one is from January. Taking high resolution images of my woodland paintings before I varnish and frame.
Though it is spring the last two days have started winter white. Spring seems to have taken a breath.