Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
A burm of dunes rises like a low, sun-warmed wall, its ridged shoulders carved by wind and time. Where the slope breaks, the ocean peeks — a sliver of silver-blue horizon, hesitant and distant. Dune grass threads the sand in stiff, sculpted lines: stiff, green blades that lean into the wind, their edges catching light and casting narrow shadows like brushstrokes across a pale canvas.
High above, storm clouds gather in slow, deliberate masses. They roll in layers of velvet gray, pink and pewter, their undersides softened at the edges as if the sky itself had been smudged with a damp fingertip. The clouds’ rounded shapes and muted tones create a gentle counterpoint to the taut geometry of the dunes; where the shoreline and grass are cut and exact, the heavens blur and breathe.
A faint, saline breeze moves through the grass, lifting sandy seeds into a brief, flickering flight. The air tastes of iron and salt, cool and expectant. Light slips between cloud and crest — a fleeting, pale beam that illuminates a patch of wet sand, then is swallowed again by shade. Sound arrives in muffled waves: distant surf rolling, then soft hushes as wind threads the grass. Each element holds its own rhythm — the dunes’ patient ridges, the clouds’ slow drift — and together they compose a quiet, watchful scene where sharp texture meets soft empathy.
16” x 20” Unframed
A burm of dunes rises like a low, sun-warmed wall, its ridged shoulders carved by wind and time. Where the slope breaks, the ocean peeks — a sliver of silver-blue horizon, hesitant and distant. Dune grass threads the sand in stiff, sculpted lines: stiff, green blades that lean into the wind, their edges catching light and casting narrow shadows like brushstrokes across a pale canvas.
High above, storm clouds gather in slow, deliberate masses. They roll in layers of velvet gray, pink and pewter, their undersides softened at the edges as if the sky itself had been smudged with a damp fingertip. The clouds’ rounded shapes and muted tones create a gentle counterpoint to the taut geometry of the dunes; where the shoreline and grass are cut and exact, the heavens blur and breathe.
A faint, saline breeze moves through the grass, lifting sandy seeds into a brief, flickering flight. The air tastes of iron and salt, cool and expectant. Light slips between cloud and crest — a fleeting, pale beam that illuminates a patch of wet sand, then is swallowed again by shade. Sound arrives in muffled waves: distant surf rolling, then soft hushes as wind threads the grass. Each element holds its own rhythm — the dunes’ patient ridges, the clouds’ slow drift — and together they compose a quiet, watchful scene where sharp texture meets soft empathy.
16” x 20” Unframed