Unpredictability is the Whole Point

I've been painting since college and selling my work on the side for many years. In the last few years, as one does, I've added many plants to my outdoor patio and they are slowly creeping into other areas of my life, including on my walls.

About two months ago I had a spot on my wall that was bothering me. With a smaller home, I shifted my living room out about six feet to carve out a little corner for my studio. This left an odd space on the wall. It was too big, too empty, and nothing I was finding felt quite right. As I looked out at my porch filled with lush green leaves, I wanted to see if I could bring that same energy inside.

The result was a large scale monstera that I'm in love with. Watercolor was the foundation, but I layered in pastels and ink to give it more depth and texture than watercolor alone could achieve. I wasn't planning a series. I was just trying to fill a wall. But something about that painting sparked a direction I can't seem to stop following.

The Swiss Cheese Vine paintings came next, and with them I wanted to push the palette somewhere darker and moodier. Deep teals, indigo, magenta lurking in the shadows. I start the way I always do, with a pencil sketch to map out the composition, placing each leaf before a single drop of paint touches the paper.

Then comes the part I love most. Once the paint is down and still wet, I sprinkle salt across the surface and just let go. The salt pulls the pigment in ways you can't predict or plan, creating these organic blooms and textures that are completely unique to each piece. No two leaves come out the same. That unpredictability is the whole point. It's where the painting stops being mine and starts becoming its own thing.

The series is still growing and I'm excited to see where it goes next. If you want a peek at what's coming, you know where to find me.