There’s something I love about painting this way. The brushstrokes are messy and imperfect and don’t really make sense on their own, until suddenly they do. A line becomes a hip. A few strokes become a breast. Color and movement start forming a woman without me really deciding what she’s supposed to look like.
This painting was painted during a photoshoot with one of my yoga students. She reached out and asked if she could capture some moments while I painted. I tried filming the experience, but my phone ran out of storage. I had a piece of wood and no plan. But it was golden hour, my muse, paint, and my amazing dog, Rajah, by my side. She asked if I wanted to chat while I painted or if I preferred the quiet.

I told her, very awkwardly, absolutely do not speak to me when I’m in Butterfly World!!! I think being able to take my mask off, throw the rules out the door, and get into pure intuitive movement is what allows me to make scribbles of color into a beautiful woman.

She is the sun. Radiant. Not only alive, but full of life.