Blue Roses

A bouquet becomes a weather system here—six blue rosettes whirling across a warm, parchment ground. Each bloom is constructed from concentric sweeps of paint that tighten toward a dark core and soften at the edges, so the flowers read as both forms and motions: spirals, eddies, small galaxies of pigment. The surrounding field isn’t neutral; the warm underpainting flares through the blues like late daylight, making the cool notes vibrate rather than recede.

The palette ranges from chalky ice blue through ultramarine to near-indigo, with brief sparks of citron and peach that act as reflected light. Dense, loaded strokes alternate with transparent drags, letting earlier layers breathe and giving the petals a sense of air within them. In places the brush lifts abruptly, leaving feathered commas of paint that mimic torn edges of petals; elsewhere, long arcs carve the volumes with decisive, wristy momentum. Darker, leafy greens arrive as diagonals and fans, cutting into the circular rhythm and keeping the composition from becoming ornamental.

Structure is achieved without drawing. Overlapping spirals set up a loose triangular arrangement that carries the eye upward and back down in a looping path. The heaviest value sits just off center, anchoring the bouquet, while the uppermost bloom dissolves into the background—an elegant fade that suggests depth and the passage of time. Negative space is handled generously, the sandy ground pooling between forms like light around bodies; this breathing room gives the painting its lift.

Emotionally the work is buoyant but not naïve—its blues are jubilant and coastal, yet the darkened centers lend a quiet gravity. It feels like flowers caught mid-turn in a breeze, or like memories circling to the surface. Stand close and you get the tactility of bristle marks and quick edits; step back and the bouquet settles into a confident, modern emblem—floral, yes, but also a study of rotation, color temperature, and the way gesture can build a world.