It begins as breath—
visible only when the air turns cold.
Cobalt shifts to ice,
motion to memory.
The body slows,
but does not stop.
Even in stillness,
the pulse keeps its rhythm beneath the surface,
soft, steady, sure.
We call it frost,
but it is only the pause between becoming—
a moment to harden,
to hold shape,
to learn what must endure
before melting again.
Collector Notes:
Veil captures the quiet tension between motion and suspension—the necessary stillness that allows transformation to take hold. Layers of acrylic and oil in cobalt and pale blue cascade down the canvas, forming translucent veils that evoke spray and condensation. Vertical drips suggest the moment when liquid begins to slow, freezing mid-fall, revealing the beauty of arrested movement. The composition explores the paradox of progress tempered by pause: how, like frost, life must sometimes freeze its surface in order to mature beneath it.
It begins as breath—
visible only when the air turns cold.
Cobalt shifts to ice,
motion to memory.
The body slows,
but does not stop.
Even in stillness,
the pulse keeps its rhythm beneath the surface,
soft, steady, sure.
We call it frost,
but it is only the pause between becoming—
a moment to harden,
to hold shape,
to learn what must endure
before melting again.
Collector Notes:
Veil captures the quiet tension between motion and suspension—the necessary stillness that allows transformation to take hold. Layers of acrylic and oil in cobalt and pale blue cascade down the canvas, forming translucent veils that evoke spray and condensation. Vertical drips suggest the moment when liquid begins to slow, freezing mid-fall, revealing the beauty of arrested movement. The composition explores the paradox of progress tempered by pause: how, like frost, life must sometimes freeze its surface in order to mature beneath it.