I remember the color of endings—
how red rose through smoke
and found its way to blue.
The air shimmered,
the ground pulsed,
and what burned did not die—
it drifted.
Flame became tide,
ember became bloom.
Everything that was ruined
began to move again.
This is how heat learns grace:
how the body learns to cool
without forgetting it is fire.
Collector Notes:
In Tidal Ember, opposing forces merge into quiet equilibrium. Layers of acrylic and oil fuse warm ochres, burnt siennas, and deep reds with cooler blues and greens, creating a surface that feels both charred and fluid. The work captures the paradox of transformation—fire rendered as water, bloom born of ash. Subtle shifts in texture suggest motion within stillness, a world renewing itself through elemental conversation. Here, decay becomes chemistry, and destruction becomes the beginning of form.
I remember the color of endings—
how red rose through smoke
and found its way to blue.
The air shimmered,
the ground pulsed,
and what burned did not die—
it drifted.
Flame became tide,
ember became bloom.
Everything that was ruined
began to move again.
This is how heat learns grace:
how the body learns to cool
without forgetting it is fire.
Collector Notes:
In Tidal Ember, opposing forces merge into quiet equilibrium. Layers of acrylic and oil fuse warm ochres, burnt siennas, and deep reds with cooler blues and greens, creating a surface that feels both charred and fluid. The work captures the paradox of transformation—fire rendered as water, bloom born of ash. Subtle shifts in texture suggest motion within stillness, a world renewing itself through elemental conversation. Here, decay becomes chemistry, and destruction becomes the beginning of form.