Inside the Studio: New Beginnings, Fresh Inspiration

I’ve been thinking a lot over the past few months about what I’m painting, why I’m painting it, and where I want to take things. In the end, I realized I wanted to create a body of work for an exhibition—my first solo show in over six years.

With that in mind, I’ve been back in the studio, focusing on our senses—how they shape how we feel, how they shift our perspective, and how they connect us to the world. A project that is deeply personal, born from a renewed awareness of the senses. After months of navigating pain and numbness, I became acutely aware of how much we rely on touch, scent, and light to connect with the world. In my paintings I want to capture that heightened sensitivity—how warmth spreads through the body, how the air shimmers in the heat, and how a single breath of summer can transport us.

I’ve started with the idea of warmth—how it feels on our skin, the way it spreads through our bodies, the smells that bring back memories, and the sounds of summer when we feel most connected to the earth. I’ve also been paying close attention to light and how it shifts our moods in subtle ways.

In the studio, I’ve been working mostly with watered-down acrylics, layering thin washes of paint to build up a feeling of softness and transparency, almost like the memory of a feeling rather than the feeling itself. I’m using larger brushes and looser, more fluid gestures to keep the movement alive in the work—to let the paint breathe and flow, much like the air on a warm day. Some layers are built up slowly over time, while others are laid down quickly and left untouched, allowing the marks to feel fresh and spontaneous.

Color has been really important too. I’m drawn to warm, sun-soaked tones right now—soft golds, dusty pinks, burnt oranges—colors that instantly evoke a sense of heat and nostalgia. I’ve also been thinking a lot about texture: where the surface needs to feel almost velvety and smooth, and where it should have more rawness and energy, almost like the roughness of sun-warmed earth under your hands.

The studio has felt like its own little world lately—quiet, a bit messy, full of half-finished canvases and jars of brushes, with light streaming in and music humming softly in the background. I’ve been trying to stay open to the process, allowing the paintings to shift and change as I work, trusting that they’ll reveal themselves in their own time.

I just wanted to share a little glimpse into my process and what’s been happening in the studio as I bring this new body of work to life. I can’t wait to share more with you soon.