fragile

The marsh is a place of quiet resilience and haunting beauty. It cradles fish and birds, softens the force of storm-driven waves, and cleanses the waters that flow through it. I return to these tidal wetlands again and again in my painting—drawn to where water breathes with the pull of the moon. My work honors these fragile landscapes of the barrier islands, ever more vulnerable to the rising tide of change and unchecked growth.

I find a sense of serenity in looking up at the sky, and that feeling inspires much of my work. While I paint landscapes, it’s often the sky and clouds that take center stage in my compositions. I challenge myself to render them with realism—yet in a way that feels uniquely my own.  

When the full moon rises, I feel a wave of hope and inspiration. Out on the beach, with nothing but sky above, I get to see its beauty and power up close. The tides grow stronger, and on a clear night, the moonlight glows for hours without trees to block it. It always reminds me that we’re part of something bigger—a universe full of wonder.

I hope my art resonates with people and brings back fond memories of family beach trips. For many, visiting the coast is a cherished tradition—renting the same cottage, during the same week, in the same seaside town year after year. I’ve been told my paintings take people back to those special moments—a reminder of feeling carefree, relaxed, and connected.

Most of my paintings wouldn’t be possible without imagination. Still, I hope to keep finding inspiration in the world as it is now. There was a time when empty, untouched beaches were the norm—before cars, bridges, condos, and crowded coastlines changed the view. When I paint, it feels like I’m reaching back in time, recreating rare and vanishing landscapes—places where nothing man-made interrupts the horizon. 

I hope my scenes—whether of inlet waters winding toward the ocean or skies filled with distant clouds—offer a sense of calm to the viewer. I have a love for the Carolinas' barrier islands, and not just for their sandy beaches. What I find most soothing are the tidal salt marshes that stretch between the islands and the mainland. They’re especially inspiring in midsummer, when the grasses turn a brilliant yellow-green. I often highlight this chartreuse-like color in my marsh paintings, blending it with the shifting tones of sky and water.