Throughout the summer of 2020 I worked on a series of paintings called 1.5 Million Balloons.  I had thought about these paintings for a couple years and decided to stop thinking and start painting, thanks pandemic!  They started out as an exercise, an attempt, something just for me.

As I shared them on social media, just little updates and behind the scenes of my process, people responded.  That response was so positive and encouraging that I kept going.  The pandemic wasn’t letting up, so I figured neither would I.

This isn’t about those paintings.  This is about the paintings that came after those.  I’m going nonlinear today.

I called the series Perspective.  Three paintings, one iris and two tulips. 

Mitch commissioned the paintings, wondering if I would be interested in doing flowers.  That was an easy question to answer, I was excited to see what flowers he’d send over.  It ended up that the photos sent were of a beautiful spring garden.  That garden belonged to a family member that had recently passed.  A circle of love opened up and I was so grateful to have been asked to stop into it.

I found the irises and tulips so outstanding and vibrant, I wanted to capture them in their vernal glory.  So of course I put a bunch of pressure on myself and stymied the flow I had going.  Once I kicked the imposter syndrome episode to the curb I kicked it with the paintings hard and heavy.  I got the flow back and finished three paintings I absolutely love!  (This paragraph describes about 3 months, struggles are real and take time.  It’s hard to capture that in a few sentences.  Everyone’s time frame is different.)

I was eager and nervous to let go of them.  It’s easy to think something is one thing in the safety of your studio, and quite different when you release them to the world.  Mitch was so happy.  And I was happy to learn the lessons I learned, old and new, while these paintings were mine.

I’m very happy I can offer prints of these paintings.  You can find prints of them and other items in my shop.

While painting the word perspective kept floating through my mind.  The macro O’Keffee-esque quality of a few of the photos was what drew me to them at first.  How direct down, in the flower’s face, the camera must have been.  And how that might have been how the gardner perceived the blooms. 

Did the blooms perceive the gardner, looking up with eager hope?  Does the observer perceive how all are intertwined and rely on the other. Yet there is no other.


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