spaghetti pie

Hi, I’m the one with paint on her hands.

Every piece here started as a puddle of color on cotton paper and a quiet afternoon. I paint the small, ordinary-beautiful things: a bowl of oranges, the blue of an early morning, the flowers that show up uninvited.

Each painting is a one-of-a-kind original. When it’s gone, it’s gone, off to live on someone’s wall instead of mine. Thank you for being here.

[a line or two more, in her own words]