Driftwood Diaries

Jeff the Manatee: The Heart of The Tidal Hue Project™️ (Holiday Edition)

Jeff the Manatee: The Heart of The Tidal Hue Pr...

For years, my daughter begged me to paint a manatee. I kept saying, “someday.” But God has perfect timing, and when The Tidal Hue Project began forming in my heart,...

Jeff the Manatee: The Heart of The Tidal Hue Pr...

For years, my daughter begged me to paint a manatee. I kept saying, “someday.” But God has perfect timing, and when The Tidal Hue Project began forming in my heart,...

1,000 Projects for a 1,000 Species

1,000 Projects for a 1,000 Species

There’s a rhythm in creation that speaks if you’re still enough to listen.It’s in the crash of the waves, the hum of the wind, the glimmer of light on a...

1,000 Projects for a 1,000 Species

There’s a rhythm in creation that speaks if you’re still enough to listen.It’s in the crash of the waves, the hum of the wind, the glimmer of light on a...

Inside My Studio

Inside My Studio

There’s something magical about walking into an artist’s studio—it’s like stepping into a world where colors, textures, and ideas collide. My own studio is no exception. Some people see jars...

Inside My Studio

There’s something magical about walking into an artist’s studio—it’s like stepping into a world where colors, textures, and ideas collide. My own studio is no exception. Some people see jars...

Painting What They Can’t Say

Painting What They Can’t Say

When I sit down with pencil in hand, I am not just sketching a sea turtle, a shark, or a heron. I am listening. I am opening a door to...

Painting What They Can’t Say

When I sit down with pencil in hand, I am not just sketching a sea turtle, a shark, or a heron. I am listening. I am opening a door to...

The Driftwood Diaries

The Driftwood Diaries

There’s something about driftwood that feels like an old friend. It’s been tossed around by the sea, carried through storms, sun-bleached, weathered — and yet it always arrives on shore...

The Driftwood Diaries

There’s something about driftwood that feels like an old friend. It’s been tossed around by the sea, carried through storms, sun-bleached, weathered — and yet it always arrives on shore...