This painting was built over one from the Neuroplasticity series—if you look closely, you can still spot bits of magenta and green peeking through the layers. It’s a reminder that nothing is ever fully buried; things carry forward.
One of the main features here is the large white scribble-scrabble bird made from my journal pages, written over so many times that the words turned into texture. Pages like this from my journal appear in each painting from the Wind and Wing series, but this one is the most prominent.
There’s a group of two or three (you decide!) white birds near the center left that gives your eye something to land on and help you pick out the bird shapes. The blues in the background feel like deep water, and there’s a yellow that falls somewhere between school bus and marigold. Turquoise and soft grays drift through in both sharp and blurred layers.
The drips suggest rain or downward motion, something heavy or unresolved. But the birds continue to move, as do thoughts and emotions rising through it all. The painting is full of motion and has some quieter pathways too.
This piece is about what sits below the surface—what stays with us, even as we move forward.
