Count Spring Blooms
When I was little I would walk down the street to catch the bus every morning. Growing up in Sonoma County, I’d pass cows, vineyards, and most importantly the most vibrant wildflowers. They’d decorate the edges of the pot-hole filled backroads with varying hues of purples, greens and golds. I’d make a game of counting them as a way to make the treacherous 5 minute walk more bearable. Each day became a new opportunity to count a few more than the day before until one day when the summer heat became too strong and they’d wilt and become a uniformed shade of brown.
Purple and white monochromatic textured acrylic abstract on 12"x12" wrapped gallery canvas
2023
When I was little I would walk down the street to catch the bus every morning. Growing up in Sonoma County, I’d pass cows, vineyards, and most importantly the most vibrant wildflowers. They’d decorate the edges of the pot-hole filled backroads with varying hues of purples, greens and golds. I’d make a game of counting them as a way to make the treacherous 5 minute walk more bearable. Each day became a new opportunity to count a few more than the day before until one day when the summer heat became too strong and they’d wilt and become a uniformed shade of brown.
Purple and white monochromatic textured acrylic abstract on 12"x12" wrapped gallery canvas
2023
When I was little I would walk down the street to catch the bus every morning. Growing up in Sonoma County, I’d pass cows, vineyards, and most importantly the most vibrant wildflowers. They’d decorate the edges of the pot-hole filled backroads with varying hues of purples, greens and golds. I’d make a game of counting them as a way to make the treacherous 5 minute walk more bearable. Each day became a new opportunity to count a few more than the day before until one day when the summer heat became too strong and they’d wilt and become a uniformed shade of brown.
Purple and white monochromatic textured acrylic abstract on 12"x12" wrapped gallery canvas
2023
