Acrylic and oil pastels on canvas, 16 × 20 in., 2026
Somewhere between a chapter and a nap, the tangerines spill out of the bag and nobody rushes to pick them up. This one's for the kind of day that doesn't have a schedule — just a striped towel, a good book, and the sun doing what it does.
There's a version of summer that looks like this: unhurried, a little Mediterranean even if you're nowhere close. Eating something fresh because it tastes good, not because you're counting anything. Reading something that makes you think about the people in your life a little differently. Leaning all the way into the simplest version of a day and finding out it's actually the fullest one.
Acrylic and oil pastels on canvas, 16 × 20 in., 2026
Somewhere between a chapter and a nap, the tangerines spill out of the bag and nobody rushes to pick them up. This one's for the kind of day that doesn't have a schedule — just a striped towel, a good book, and the sun doing what it does.
There's a version of summer that looks like this: unhurried, a little Mediterranean even if you're nowhere close. Eating something fresh because it tastes good, not because you're counting anything. Reading something that makes you think about the people in your life a little differently. Leaning all the way into the simplest version of a day and finding out it's actually the fullest one.
