Inspired loosely by an old tutorial and reinterpreted in my own style, this painting captures the serenity of nature’s small moments. The gentle trickle of the water hints at the kind of peace that comes not with grandeur, but with subtle beauty – the sound of slow-moving water, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the stillness that quiets the mind.

This piece belongs in the Peace collection, meant to reflect those small, nourishing moments of stillness and natural harmony. Whether placed in a quiet corner or lively room, it offers a moment of pause and colorful path to calm.

The canvas sides are painted black for a clean, professional look, allowing for immediate display with or without a frame.

Inspired by an old tutorial but reimagined in my own style, this piece carries a weight of memory and introspection. A golden sky can often symbolize caution or fear, and here, it becomes a quiet metaphor for the moments we hold back – from hopes and dreams, from connection or even romance, from possibility. Regret’s Glow lives in the Nostalgia collection because it is about those turning points that were never taken, and the soft ache of wondering “what if.”

NOTE: There is a tiny, patched area in the back of this canvas. It’s not visible from the front, and the surface remains smooth and undisturbed. This piece is priced at $255 (reduced) to reflect that minor flaw in the canvas.

Nature reminds us that life is always moving, growing, and adapting. As a school psychologist and artist (as well as a pet owner and mom!), I’ve often found that simply being surrounded by nature sparks creativity and new ideas – something I hope children and adults alike can hold onto. Whether you’re dreaming of a creative project, a life goal, or just a quiet moment of peace, Vibrancy encourages you to imagine what could be.

This piece explores what it means to feel painted over – when past joy is covered by something heavier, something harder to name. As a school psychologist, the artist has seen how depression often hides in plain sight, including amongst our children. Teachers are often the first point of contact – a caring adult who notices a student has changed, quieted, become withdrawn. A conversation, a gesture, a connection can begin the return.

The flower in this painting represents that moment: the hand reaching out, the feeling of being seen again. Whether you’re the one offering help or the one needing it, Painted Over is a visual reminder that connection can be a lifeline – and hope is never entirely gone.

As a school psychologist and a parent, I often think about what it takes to help a child thrive – how success in school and in life so often begins long before the first word is read or the first pencil is held. It begins with a sense of safety. Of belonging. Of knowing someone is looking out for you. Much like this bird, caregivers, educators, and mentors work steadily to prepare environments where young people can grow – emotionally, socially, and academically.

This piece honors that gentle, powerful instinct to build something lasting – whether you’re parenting, teaching, healing, or simply starting something new.

Spanish moss flows like silken memory from the branches, while distant purple hills and small desert plants root the scene in contrast and warmth. The composition honors the intergenerational bond between caregiver and child – no words needed, no crowd in sight, just a connection held in motion and shadow.

Placed in the Nostalgia category, this piece serves as a visual keepsake of tenderness and simplicity. It’s a gentle reminder of time slowed, of childhood laughter, and of the quiet caretakers who shape our earliest joys.

Still Winter  coneys separation from the noise of the world – not necessarily sorrowful or defiant, but contemplative. It speaks to those stretches in life when we pause, by choice or necessity, to gather strength or seek temporary isolation to think clearly or connect with our spiritual side.  Whether it’s a need for solitude or self-preservation, this piece invites a sense of stillness with emotional undertones that are open to interpretation.

There is no sailor. No shadow. No movement. Just presence.

And beneath the boat, a faint, steady glow. A narrow line of light, resting directly beneath the hull. It does not trail. It does not spread. It simply holds.

This painting speaks to the emotional weight of nostalgia – those seasons of life when we drift alone, uncertain, or weary. And yet, even in the quietest, darkest stretches, something keeps us from sinking. Sometimes it’s the memory of joy, a flicker of gratitude, spiritual connection, or the strength to keep going simply because we have before.

*Let this piece remind you that even when life feels unmoored, you are not drifting alone. There may be light right beneath you – steady, sacred, and just enough.*

It’s an emotional and visual exploration of faith, wonder, and the moments where words fall short but feeling remains.

Though it began as a painting exercise, this piece took on deeper meaning during its time hanging in my school psychology office. One day, a young boy with autism became quietly captivated by it. His connection to the panther’s presence was powerful; he seemed to study the painting but did not fear it. With his mother’s permission, I later gifted him second version – one of the most rewarding moments I’ve experienced through art.

A photo of that version just for him can be seen on my Instagram account (Click the link on the home page.) and on my gallery page.

Unshaken is a portrait of instinct, confidence, and presence – the kind of inner strength that doesn’t need to roar to be heard.

*This painting was inspired by a tutorial from Michelle the Painter on YouTube, whose encouragement of fellow artists makes this version possible.