Bury my body hypha-marble-arch Thinking about carved hearts on

Thinking about carved hearts on trees

the whimsical isolated scene is cropped to where the person's arms and legs are visible

as a tangible object

where my mother is from

purged by guests for their precious interiors

Bury my body hypha-marble-arch Thinking about carved hearts onBury my body was never just about a picnic. Its about the dance of paint and light, the resistance to control, the attempt to keep something alive. The figures sit in an atmosphere thick with memory: the warmth of sun on skin, a subtle breeze, the hush of grass. Longing glances and the space between them. The painting holds onto a feeling a memory of how summer once felt. Its not a scene, but a recollection built in layers. A search for emotion over