A Stillness Between Flowers reflects on the gentler side of painting, where atmosphere, space and the life between forms matter as much as the flowers themselves.

This painting began without a plan. Waterlilies arrived not as an image to replicate, but as a sensation. A memory of light sitting on water, of growth and stillness existing at once. The surface was built slowly, interrupted and returned to, allowing forms to surface and recede rather than resolve. It lives in the space between seeing and remembering, asking to be spent time with rather than decoded.

This work resists arriving anywhere fixed. Forms loosen and soften, refusing to settle into something fully named. What remains is not an image but a state, shaped by hesitation, layering and time. The painting holds its ambiguity carefully, allowing space for looking without resolution, and for meaning to shift rather than solidify.