Clovers
There’s a quiet kind of abundance that lives low to the ground—easy to overlook unless you slow down enough to really see it. This field of clover revealed itself in layers: soft whites catching the light, deep magentas anchoring the foreground, and wild grasses weaving everything together in motion.
What drew me in wasn’t just the color, but the rhythm—the way the blooms scatter without pattern, yet feel completely balanced. Working in pastel allowed me to respond quickly, letting marks stay loose and intuitive, building texture the same way the field grows—organically, without overthinking.
This piece is about that moment when light shifts and everything feels alive, even in stillness. A reminder that beauty doesn’t always announce itself loudly—it often waits in the quiet, just beneath our feet.