Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
A low moon lifts itself just above the trees, glowing amber against layers of shadow and mist. The forest rises in quiet silhouettes, repeating itself in soft echoes, as if the land is remembering the same shape over and over again.
Nothing moves, but nothing feels empty. This is a moment meant to be overheard rather than entered, a pause where the night gathers its thoughts before continuing on. The moon does not announce itself. It simply watches, steady and unbothered, keeping secrets older than the pines.
Painted in moody washes and deep, softened edges, this piece leans into stillness as a form of magic. It’s the kind of night that doesn’t ask questions…it already knows the answers.
Original - watercolor on paper: 5" × 7".
5" × 7" prints available.
A low moon lifts itself just above the trees, glowing amber against layers of shadow and mist. The forest rises in quiet silhouettes, repeating itself in soft echoes, as if the land is remembering the same shape over and over again.
Nothing moves, but nothing feels empty. This is a moment meant to be overheard rather than entered, a pause where the night gathers its thoughts before continuing on. The moon does not announce itself. It simply watches, steady and unbothered, keeping secrets older than the pines.
Painted in moody washes and deep, softened edges, this piece leans into stillness as a form of magic. It’s the kind of night that doesn’t ask questions…it already knows the answers.
Original - watercolor on paper: 5" × 7".
5" × 7" prints available.