Paperbark Hush

Their trunks, layered in that soft, papery bark, peel back in loose ribbons, glowing pale and luminous against the darkening backdrop of stormy sky. Behind the trees, the sky has already turned an electric dark indigo, rolling in off the brackish water like they mean business. There's a tension to this petite little piece: the trees incandescent, while the sky behind them goes cold. The lagoon below sits still and glassy, catching fragments of tropical aquamarine, and just a smear of the coming storm. Fingerpainted in oils, this moody little work of oil on canvas captures that fleeting, charged hush before the weather breaks, each ridge and stroke of paint still holding the memory of the hand that pressed it there.