Collection: Peony Gazing

So, peonies... isn’t it everyone’s favorite flower? Or at least top 10? I love how they start as tight little spheres and then just explode into ruffles and layers. One moment they’re all mystery, and the next, they’ve got a full skirt on. Then, just as suddenly, they drop every petal like it’s no big deal. What a thrill at every stage.

When people see these paintings, I hope they feel a kind of permission—like maybe they can break some rules too. To make their own choices, to shape the world they want to live in, even in small, quiet ways. This series is about that feeling—taking back space, making space, seeing possibility where tradition usually just says “stay in line.”

I’ve seen the actual Mona Lisa in person three times, and every time I think: it’s wild how a painting can be treated almost like a person. Governments insure her, guard her, keep her behind glass. Art can be all hype. It’s what we believe about a piece that gives it value. And the Mona Lisa? She's the ultimate example of that. Icon status turned mythology.

I’ve been diving into research about the real woman behind the image—Lisa Gherardini. She lived in Florence, had six children, and lost three of them. It reminds me how fragile and fierce life was—and still is.

In one way, it felt like I was breaking the rules to paint over something so iconic. But in another way, it felt totally fair game. She’s everywhere. You can buy a Mona Lisa at IKEA. She’s printed on socks and shower curtains. A quick Google confirms: “Mona Lisa is in the public domain.”

This project is about recognizing those quiet permission slips life offers—to challenge the untouchable, to rewrite the familiar, and to make something new from something known.