Bathed in the hush of twilight, The Spirit of the Forest emerges like a dream remembered just before waking—fleeting, tender, and quietly powerful.
With her head gently bowed, she gazes down at a pair of delicate birds resting in her arms of wood. Their tiny feathers ruffle in the unseen wind, and though they are light as breath, their presence is profound. There is a mothering stillness in her expression—a reverence, as if she knows she was there, not only to protect all beings in the forest but also to cradle moments like this: small, sacred, alive.
The limited palette of orange and blue creates a quiet tension—warmth against coolness. It is the color of balance, of dreams suspended in time. The softness of the watercolor bleeds into the board like sap into earth, echoing the gentle interconnectedness of all life.
The Spirit of the Forest invites the viewer into a world where nature is not separate from humanity but intertwined, breathing with us, watching over us. It whispers a story of belonging—of how even the smallest creatures are held in the embrace of something greater. To stand before this painting is to be reminded: the forest is not just a place, but a presence. A spirit. A home.
Materials: watercolor and pencils on cardboard.
experimentation with acrylic on board
1st layers of watercolor on board
adding layers of watercolor
refined lines
