The lake house, the snow blanketing the cherry orchard outside my window, casting a clear blue glow across trinket and canvas.
An alter, an offering, a place to exist.
I know whoever this piece calls to is profoundly moved by mysticism. Do you see the faeries dance across the canvas? Smoke is the visual prayer that shimmers to the above. Stories are embedded into detail, glazed across brass & shadows.
The lake house, the snow blanketing the cherry orchard outside my window, casting a clear blue glow across trinket and canvas.
An alter, an offering, a place to exist.
I know whoever this piece calls to is profoundly moved by mysticism. Do you see the faeries dance across the canvas? Smoke is the visual prayer that shimmers to the above. Stories are embedded into detail, glazed across brass & shadows.