Introducing the Bloomshift Style

Every artist has a way of working that feels most like home — for me, it’s what I call the Bloomshift style. It grew out of my love for watercolor’s soft, organic blooms and my fascination with geometric structure. In Bloomshift, I layer the two: transparent washes and gentle color blooms meet subtle cubist edges and shifts in perspective.

The process is part control, part surprise. I’ll map out the structure of a composition, then let watercolor move and pool in ways I can’t entirely predict. Those spontaneous marks — the blooms — often become the most alive parts of the painting. I respond to them by refining certain edges, softening others, and sometimes tilting the perspective so it feels just slightly off balance, like a memory that’s vivid in places and hazy in others.

Bloomshift has shown up in multiple series — from still lifes to interiors — but it’s less about subject matter and more about a way of seeing. It’s about holding on and letting go at the same time, creating work that feels grounded yet fluid, deliberate yet open to chance.

Slow Art

On Slow Art

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to create slowly.

We live in a world that values speed—fast results, fast content, fast success. But art doesn’t always work that way. At least not the kind of art I want to make. The kind I need to make.

For me, painting is not just about producing an image. It’s about returning to a quiet rhythm. It’s about noticing the way light falls on a field, or how a color feels when it settles into paper. It’s about stepping back between layers, letting something dry, letting myself think.

There’s honesty in that kind of pace.

There’s also trust.

Trusting that even without a tight deadline or a flurry of output, the work is still growing.

That meaning can emerge—not from rushing—but from staying.

What Slow Art Looks Like

Sometimes, slow art is visible in the final painting: a soft edge that couldn’t be rushed. A color mixed just right because I waited. A subject that feels gentle and whole.

But sometimes, it’s not visible at all. It’s in the weeks spent wondering what I’m really trying to say. Or in letting myself paint something light-hearted in between deeper work. Or in choosing not to share everything I make.

Why I Choose This Pace

I’m not trying to keep up. I’m trying to stay connected.

To myself, to what matters, to what feels real in this moment.

Making art slowly doesn’t mean working less—it means working more attentively, more intentionally. It’s about honoring process over pressure.

And that, to me, is where the joy is.

Eats and Escapes

I’ve started a watercolor series that captures my love for discovery, simple joys, and the quiet beauty of both nature and everyday life. From serene landscapes to delicate sushi and delectable pastries, this series is a playful exploration of what nourishes us—both body and soul.

I invite viewers to pause, savor fleeting moments, and escape into scenes that feel both familiar and open to endless imagination. Blending my appreciation for subtle, airy aesthetics with a sense of wonder, Eats and Escapes is an ongoing journey of creativity and curiosity, grounded in the things that bring comfort, delight, and inspiration.