Somehow, I Know You’re Still There

This painting is a quiet invocation — a love letter to presence that lingers beyond physical form. I created it during a period of deep reflection, where absence became a kind of companion, and memory was charged with texture and spirit.

Two ethereal birds perch amidst a sea of crimson wildflowers, grounded in the earthy warmth of impasto and textured line. One bird looks outward, embodying watchfulness; the other, more introspective, hovers between the worlds. A smaller, almost imperceptible bird bridges the space between — like a soul fragment or quiet guide.

Above them, the sky spirals with silver leaf — glistening symbols of the eternal, the cyclical, the mysterious language of the cosmos. The metallic surface catches the light differently as you move, reminding us that truth can shift with perspective.

Hidden throughout the work are elemental faes — tiny, otherworldly presences embedded in the texture. Some are revealed only when the light grazes the canvas just right. These beings speak to the unseen forces that tend to our grief and carry our longing across the veil.

This piece holds the vibration of remembrance — textured with love, layered in silver, and spiraled with sky. Somehow, I know you’re still there. Not gone… just transformed.