This collection isn’t about recognition; it’s about feeling. About stopping. About squinting into layers of teal and ochre and slate until something stirs—a memory of morning mist on a country road, the charge in the air before a storm breaks, that particular quality of light when you wake up on a lazy Saturday with nowhere to be. This series features close-ups of my abstract paintings—paintings which capture what it feels like to fall in love with the most ordinary moments of being alive.

The photographs in this collection do something different but equally necessary—they document the actual skies that inspire these emotional landscapes. Gradient sunsets transitioning from teal to coral. Storm systems gathering on distant horizons. Fog rolling across water at dawn. These are the real atmospheric moments, offering serene backgrounds for meditation, for breath, for the pause we so desperately need in this busy world. But while the photographs freeze specific moments, the paintings go deeper—scratched marks and weathered surfaces showing layers upon layers of color and memory and emotion, red accents punctuating like lightning or questions, horizontal sweeps suggesting horizons where sky meets earth meets everything we can’t quite articulate but somehow recognize.

So here’s the invitation: Get lost. Don’t try to figure out what each painting “is”—instead, let yourself feel into it. See it with fresh eyes tomorrow and discover something new. Notice how the colors shift depending on the light, your mood, the season. Because buried in that layered, complex surface are pieces of my life—experiences and song lyrics and movie quotes and the feeling of wet grass after summer rain—poured onto canvas in hopes that you’ll recognize something of yourself there too. And in that moment of recognition, we connect. This collection—painted and photographed, abstract and real, emotional and documentary—asks you to stop, breathe, look up, and remember that the most meaningful moments aren’t the milestone events but the quiet ones: light breaking through morning mist, the way atmosphere holds its breath before a storm, the extraordinary beauty hiding in the ordinary if we’re present enough to see it.