Springs Caress - Prints

Gallery Note 

The jar sat nestled in the tall grass as if it had been placed there not by hand, but by memory itself. The daffodils, golden and unflinching, reached toward the light with a confidence born of long-kept promises. All around them, tiny white blossoms clustered like curious onlookers, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of what had just transpired. Spring’s Caress, they called it, that moment when warmth returns not with fanfare, but with quiet certainty. And yet, something in the scene suggested it had been interrupted—a picnic, a conversation, or perhaps a confession—now folded neatly back into the flowers.

Artist Inspiration

A jar of glass in meadow’s shade, Half-hidden where the grasses braid, Stood holding gold in soft repose— As if it bloomed from earth it knows.