[sub]surface tension
There’s an internal wrestle we all carry, a battle in our minds and a division in our hearts. We want to do what is right and yet find ourselves doing what is wrong.
We live conflicted, yearning and reaching for the light and finding our other hand still grasping and clenhicng to the dark.
This body of work examines my own reflections on the daily struggle that exists whether I admit it or not. It acknowledges the seperation I cause, my daily need for being washed, and the internal wrestling that continues within.
Cast Me Not Away
14”x20”, Watercolour on Cotton, 2026
‘Outstanding Watercolor’ Award, Boldbrush Awards, August 2026
‘Finalist’, Ferry Building Gallery Portrait Awards, 2026
Sometimes we know that we missed the mark, that we’ve dropped the ball, that we not only failed, but we were willing participants, caught up in our own selfishness. That moment of realisation sometimes comes not only with regret, but also with the feeling that what we have done has caused a deep separation between us and the one we harmed.
How to we get back to that place where we are together again? The place where we were in step, in harmony, at peace, enjoying one another.
Only forgiveness can repair what was broken, and in that forgiveness, someone has to absorb the cost of what was broken. For the forgiver, they somehow absorb the pain and the debt for the hope of the joy of the reconciled relationship before them. Forgiveness always comes at a price - but it’s worth it.
Your Way Was Through The Sea
SOLD 12”x16”, Watercolour on Cotton, 2025
Winner of The BoldBrush Award | November 2025 BoldBrush Art Contest & Exhibit.
Winner of Best Artist Under 40, Salon Art Prize Feb/March 2026
Published in 'Painting The Unseen' | 6-Page Editorial in The Art of Watercolour Magazine (#62) | Diverti Editions
Published in'The Essence of Humanity' | 8-Page Editorial in Watercolor Artist Magazine (Summer 2026) | Golden Peak Media
In ancient times, the sea wasn't just water—it was chaos incarnate. A godlike force, simultaneously capable of great suffering, giving and taking life. Impersonal. Powerful. Terrifying. The ancients understood that anyone who could command such a force must have been the One who created it.
I can spend too much energy trying to avoid the chaos and suffering. I want to check out, pretend it's not that bad, live in denial. Yet I'm becoming more aware of how stuck I am—desperate for another way, but there isn't one. The only way through is straight into it.
God's way is rarely the easy path. It's usually the hard way, the impossible way—through waters that should drown us. We can't fight the sea, can't control it, can't avoid it, can't deny it, can't go around it. We've got to go through it. But here's what I keep learning: His way through the sea is never walked alone.
Passing through the impossible requires something beyond ourselves—someone who has walked through it before and will walk with us right now if we let them. Someone who sees chaos not as an obstacle, but as a path towards greater joy and freedom. The waters that threaten to overwhelm become the very place He chooses to reveal His presence.
Sometimes we put too much focus on the chaos itself, missing that through the chaos, pain, and suffering lies the path to freedom and life. The impossible becomes possible not because the circumstances change, but because we realize we were never meant to face them solo.
Those Who Look To Him
12×16”, Watercolour on Cotton, 2025
Juried into the 2025 Limitless Exhibition
Published in'The Essence of Humanity' | 8-Page Editorial in Watercolor Artist Magazine (Summer 2026) | Golden Peak Media
When you focus on the kind of beauty and truth you can actually behold, it becomes harder to grumble, harder to compare. Gratitude shifts everything - it helps you care for what you have rather than resent what you lack.
I Lift My Eyes
SOLD 7”×10”, Watercolour Mounted on Cradled Panel with Floater Frame, 2025
Juried into the 2025 AIMAE
Juried as a Top 200 Winner and invited to “Hang with the Masters” at the IWM2026 at Lilleshall Hall in England May 2026
Published in 'The Essence of Humanity' | 8-Page Editorial in Watercolor Artist Magazine (Summer 2026) | Golden Peak Media
"I Lift My Eyes" The moment before surrender is often the hardest.
Sometimes I catch myself making active choices that I know aren't serving me. Preferring the familiar weight of busyness over the vulnerability of rest. Choosing to indulge in moments of grumbling, entertaining complaints, feeding that negative feedback loop that feels oddly comfortable, and finding myself irritated with the world.
Wanting to be right instead of simply saying sorry.
[Selah]
But there's beauty in certain rituals - those moments of washing yourself in truth. These quiet rituals that show us that cleansing is possible, and help lead us toward surrendering whatever silly thing we're holding on to that is actually causing the distress.
I consider the moment when you find yourself uncovered, realising you desperately need to be covered. When the anguish of staying where you are finally outweighs the risk of letting go and relenting.
The struggle isn't pretty - we find ourselves pressed against the obstacle we made for ourselves. Yet there is hope. Sometimes we need to put the 'blinders' on, or close our eyes to truly see - I Lift My Eyes.
Available
Size: 12x16
Unframed Watercolour on Cotton, 2025
Winner of The BoldBrush Award | November 2025 BoldBrush Art Contest & Exhibit.
Winner of Best Artist Under 40, Salon Art Prize Feb/March 2026
In ancient times, the sea wasn't just water—it was chaos incarnate. A godlike force, simultaneously capable of great suffering, giving and taking life. Impersonal. Powerful. Terrifying. The ancients understood that anyone who could command such a force must have been the One who created it.
I can spend too much energy trying to avoid the chaos and suffering. I want to check out, pretend it's not that bad, live in denial. Yet I'm becoming more aware of how stuck I am—desperate for another way, but there isn't one. The only way through is straight into it.
God's way is rarely the easy path. It's usually the hard way, the impossible way—through waters that should drown us. We can't fight the sea, can't control it, can't avoid it, can't deny it, can't go around it. We've got to go through it. But here's what I keep learning: His way through the sea is never walked alone.
Passing through the impossible requires something beyond ourselves—someone who has walked through it before and will walk with us right now if we let them. Someone who sees chaos not as an obstacle, but as a path towards greater joy and freedom. The waters that threaten to overwhelm become the very place He chooses to reveal His presence.
Sometimes we put too much focus on the chaos itself, missing that through the chaos, pain, and suffering lies the path to freedom and life. The impossible becomes possible not because the circumstances change, but because we realize we were never meant to face them solo.
I've wanted to paint this for a while—the contrast of what's in focus versus what's not, the parts with energy and movement versus the parts with immovable chaos. This is the third in a series exploring sight, surrender, and trust—discovering that closing our eyes doesn't mean we're walking blind. Sometimes it means we're finally seeing clearly enough to know we don't walk alone.
Size 12×16
Unframed Watercolour on Cotton, 2025
Juried into the 2025 Limitless Exhibition
When you focus on the kind of beauty and truth you can actually behold, it becomes harder to grumble, harder to compare. Gratitude shifts everything - it helps you care for what you have rather than resent what you lack.
Size: 7×10
Wartercolour Mounted on Cradled Panel with Floater Frame, 2025
Juried into the 2025 AIMAE
Juried as a Top 200 Winner and invited to “Hang with the Masters” at the IWM2026 at Lilleshall Hall in England May 2026
Published in 'The Essence of Humanity' | 8-Page Editorial in Watercolor Artist Magazine (Summer 2026) | Golden Peak Media
"I Lift My Eyes" The moment before surrender is often the hardest.
Sometimes I catch myself making active choices that I know aren't serving me. Preferring the familiar weight of busyness over the vulnerability of rest. Choosing to indulge in moments of grumbling, entertaining complaints, feeding that negative feedback loop that feels oddly comfortable, and finding myself irritated with the world.
Wanting to be right instead of simply saying sorry.
[Selah]
But there's beauty in certain rituals - those moments of washing yourself in truth. These quiet rituals that show us that cleansing is possible, and help lead us toward surrendering whatever silly thing we're holding on to that is actually causing the distress.
I consider the moment when you find yourself uncovered, realising you desperately need to be covered. When the anguish of staying where you are finally outweighs the risk of letting go and relenting.
The struggle isn't pretty - we find ourselves pressed against the obstacle we made for ourselves. Yet there is hope. Sometimes we need to put the 'blinders' on, or close our eyes to truly see - I Lift My Eyes.