Bramble
18 × 24 × 1.5 Inches, Acrylic & Oil on Canvas - 2025
I grow where light barely reaches.
Roots deep in silence,
hands full of thorns.
The dark is not absence—
it is shelter.
It is the patience of things that wait.
Two small berries glisten,
wet as breath,
the last embers of color in black.
Proof that something still makes its mark,
still insists on ripening.
I do not guard;
I endure.
I do not fruit for witness;
I am bounty because I must.
Collector Notes:
Bramble is an exploration of endurance within shadow—a meditation on the quiet act of persisting. A vertical form rises from a textured field of black and deep gray, its silhouette softened by layers of oil and acrylic that suggest both growth and erosion. Two glossy marks glisten within the darkness, like berries caught in perpetual ripening—small signs of life resisting stillness. The surface, built through scratching and impasto, carries the weight of time while retaining a sense of pulse. In this work, darkness becomes fertile ground; what appears solitary reveals itself as quietly alive.
18 × 24 × 1.5 Inches, Acrylic & Oil on Canvas - 2025
I grow where light barely reaches.
Roots deep in silence,
hands full of thorns.
The dark is not absence—
it is shelter.
It is the patience of things that wait.
Two small berries glisten,
wet as breath,
the last embers of color in black.
Proof that something still makes its mark,
still insists on ripening.
I do not guard;
I endure.
I do not fruit for witness;
I am bounty because I must.
Collector Notes:
Bramble is an exploration of endurance within shadow—a meditation on the quiet act of persisting. A vertical form rises from a textured field of black and deep gray, its silhouette softened by layers of oil and acrylic that suggest both growth and erosion. Two glossy marks glisten within the darkness, like berries caught in perpetual ripening—small signs of life resisting stillness. The surface, built through scratching and impasto, carries the weight of time while retaining a sense of pulse. In this work, darkness becomes fertile ground; what appears solitary reveals itself as quietly alive.