







Each season brings renewal and hope. It can also bring a despairing sense of unrepair as we long for things old that once sustained us. Loves lost. Craters we fell into. Caverns that echo. In those moments, I find myself drawn into the unfolding textures and patterns. Here, in a close space, we can be suspended and entranced. We can take a narrow view of what was or a broader view of what is and may yet be. My hope is that with these, you too find yourself amid... stable, balanced, blooming.