Morning reflections
Where the painting happens. Stripes, grids and interwoven patterns begin as an act of precision, then I push the rhythm until it wavers — shifting lines, overlapping edges, a surface that resists control while still fitting the hand.
These start as the most disciplined thing I make. The pattern is measured, the divisions are even, and then somewhere along the way a line shifts and the whole grid goes slightly out of step. I have stopped fixing that. The handle, meanwhile, gets no such freedom — it either fits the hand or it does not.
30 pieces
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