Winds of Solitude was created from a place of inner unrest — a quiet storm that brews beneath the surface when everything around you appears still. I was drawn to the contrast between turmoil and calm, and how they can exist side by side without ever truly canceling each other out.
With sweeping strokes of black, white, and soft green, I tried to capture the feeling of movement within stillness — like wind in a vast, empty landscape. There’s both tension and release in the composition, an emotional rhythm that mirrors the way we navigate the quieter, more introspective parts of ourselves.
This piece is as much about letting go as it is about holding on. In creating it, I found space to reflect — to sit with discomfort, and to witness it shift. My hope is that it offers others the same invitation: to pause, to feel, and to discover something new each time they return to it.
Winds of Solitude was created from a place of inner unrest — a quiet storm that brews beneath the surface when everything around you appears still. I was drawn to the contrast between turmoil and calm, and how they can exist side by side without ever truly canceling each other out.
With sweeping strokes of black, white, and soft green, I tried to capture the feeling of movement within stillness — like wind in a vast, empty landscape. There’s both tension and release in the composition, an emotional rhythm that mirrors the way we navigate the quieter, more introspective parts of ourselves.
This piece is as much about letting go as it is about holding on. In creating it, I found space to reflect — to sit with discomfort, and to witness it shift. My hope is that it offers others the same invitation: to pause, to feel, and to discover something new each time they return to it.
