Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
“Nature joins light and dark, decay and regeneration, suffering and ease, life and death, order and disorder, yin and yang—there can’t be one without the other. The universe and I are one; I owe my existence to unities. I can see myself in the snowy trees and they can see me in themselves. In a vast, mostly empty cosmos, we are life differing only in ratios of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen.
The kinship I feel when I paint nature conjures soothing memories:
As kids, my brother and I played outside in the winter for long hours. We would make snow forts to protect ourselves in vicious snow-ball fights, tunnel through large piles of snow, and sled until moonrise. I can’t imagine warmer memories.
When I paint, I can revisit those feelings and ‘live’ in the scene. My tender feelings arise, and the love for my brother is renewed—that’s the power of art.”
Mixed media on 20 × 20 canvas
“Nature joins light and dark, decay and regeneration, suffering and ease, life and death, order and disorder, yin and yang—there can’t be one without the other. The universe and I are one; I owe my existence to unities. I can see myself in the snowy trees and they can see me in themselves. In a vast, mostly empty cosmos, we are life differing only in ratios of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen.
The kinship I feel when I paint nature conjures soothing memories:
As kids, my brother and I played outside in the winter for long hours. We would make snow forts to protect ourselves in vicious snow-ball fights, tunnel through large piles of snow, and sled until moonrise. I can’t imagine warmer memories.
When I paint, I can revisit those feelings and ‘live’ in the scene. My tender feelings arise, and the love for my brother is renewed—that’s the power of art.”
Mixed media on 20 × 20 canvas