Roses blanches et tournesols
Acrylic on linen, 28 × 24 in.
This painting began with flowers, but quickly became less about describing a bouquet than about the sensation of being surrounded by growth, color, and light. White roses and sunflowers emerge and dissolve within a loose field of greens, pinks, yellows, and orange. Stems stretch, bend, and wander through the painting, while passages of acrylic remain open, layered, and atmospheric.
I’m interested in the way a garden is never really still. Things grow, fade, overlap, disappear, and return. The painting tries to hold some of that instability—the garden not as an arrangement, but as a living, changing place.
Roses blanches et tournesols
Acrylic on linen, 28 × 24 in.
This painting began with flowers, but quickly became less about describing a bouquet than about the sensation of being surrounded by growth, color, and light. White roses and sunflowers emerge and dissolve within a loose field of greens, pinks, yellows, and orange. Stems stretch, bend, and wander through the painting, while passages of acrylic remain open, layered, and atmospheric.
I’m interested in the way a garden is never really still. Things grow, fade, overlap, disappear, and return. The painting tries to hold some of that instability—the garden not as an arrangement, but as a living, changing place.