‘Secrets kept her from being lonely’ — acrylic on canvas, 405 x 505 mm. Available.
‘Secrets kept her from being lonely’ is my latest six-word painting. It features (most of) a supermoon and many (many) layers of stars. It’s impossible to take a good photo of this painting now that it’s varnished and super glossy… and prior to varnishing, the colours weren’t nearly as rich and deep and dark. So what you see here will have to do. In real life, the moon and the stars are brighter than the blue text, and the night sky is blue, black, and purple. 🌕✨
And if you want to know a secret, this painting was inspired by a photograph I took of a blue supermoon in 2015. I can’t tell you how thrilled I was when I discovered that I not only had a good shot of the moon’s surface, I could also see the different colours of the surrounding stars. Not a bad effort for my little nothing-fancy camera : ) 📷
🌸 To celebrate the arrival of SPRING 🌸 I’m giving NZ and Australian art lovers 20% off the price of everything in my Etsy shop when spending a minimum of US$15 ~ offer valid for all of September 2019 🌸
‘Yellow Boots’ — acrylic on canvas, 405 x 405 mm. Available.
☁️☁️☁️ When I started painting this a couple of weeks ago, the days were indeed grey grey grey and the branches of the plum tree outside my studio (the view that inspired the background of the painting) were bare bare bare. But after a couple of unseasonably warm days (warm, that is, for August in Christchurch), an explosion of little pink blossoms reminds me that spring is mere days away. Sun sun sun, here it comes. ⛅🌤☀️
Treetop family home. Open-plan. Great views. — acrylic on canvas, 405 x 405 mm, 2019. Available.
My latest six-word painting is more ‘rough art’ rather than fine art. It has lots of texture and touches of iridescent white and shiny gold (which aren’t really showing up in the photos). The nest wasn’t part of the original concept but just sort of appeared while I was working on the composition. Painting this reminded me that when I was very young, I wanted to sleep in the branches of our walnut tree, underneath the stars. Who am I kidding? I still do.