Sometimes you eat the bear (2024 Spring Sessions, #3/9)
Original artwork, 22” x 30” mixed media on paper, unframed
There’s a rhythm to this piece, a balance between deliberate motion and free expression. Each brushstroke feels like it’s part of a larger current, flowing with intention yet open to change. When the red emerged in the corner, it shifted the energy, inviting something new—a sound, a movement, a direction—just as the music did. It’s a moment suspended in time, where the line between thought and action blurs, and the space between them feels infinite.
Original artwork, 22” x 30” mixed media on paper, unframed
There’s a rhythm to this piece, a balance between deliberate motion and free expression. Each brushstroke feels like it’s part of a larger current, flowing with intention yet open to change. When the red emerged in the corner, it shifted the energy, inviting something new—a sound, a movement, a direction—just as the music did. It’s a moment suspended in time, where the line between thought and action blurs, and the space between them feels infinite.
Original artwork, 22” x 30” mixed media on paper, unframed
There’s a rhythm to this piece, a balance between deliberate motion and free expression. Each brushstroke feels like it’s part of a larger current, flowing with intention yet open to change. When the red emerged in the corner, it shifted the energy, inviting something new—a sound, a movement, a direction—just as the music did. It’s a moment suspended in time, where the line between thought and action blurs, and the space between them feels infinite.