i think i know why the dog howls at the moon.

This painting feels like the first of its kind, in a way that feels hard to describe, but if you know my art I’m sure you can see it. It’s a shift in storytelling, it’s also a sort of kiss goodbye to a color scheme that’s gotten me through the thick of a pandemic.

there’s such a feeling of memory to it, an ode to Montana perhaps, but it feels deeper than that.

there’s something rich about the sound of boots on snow, something like the hand of a loved one when the sun shines alongside the echoes. maybe that’s the feeling i’m trying to capture, maybe that’s the feeling i’m holding onto. the way my lungs feel alive, the way my heartbeat makes it all the more vibrant.

and still, i take too much credit. the creative spirit has been telling this story through time, my hands could hardly take credit for lifetimes of muscle memory in my DNA.

i know i’ve spent many days and nights lost in this painting.

i know i’ve spent many lifetimes calling this feeling home.

and still, it is no longer my home, so if you’re interested in purchasing this piece, fill out the form here.

mixed media on wood panel; 2021-2022
acrylic, posca pens, colored pencil, oil paint.