Summer Storm

After the Tornado

A tornado doesn’t just tear through land—it rips through everything: homes, memories, foundations, and the quiet spaces inside us we thought were safe.

When a storm like that hits, it doesn’t ask permission. It destroys what it wants, without warning. The chaos it leaves behind feels unbearable—but strangely, it’s also where rebuilding begins. In the aftermath, there’s room to clear, to replant, to start again… even if it’s not the life we had before.

This painting brought me a brief joy in its completion—like sunlight breaking through rotating clouds. But as I sat with it, the weight returned. My own storm—the one inside me—is still spinning. And I’m still in the middle of it, trying to hold on.

Creating helped me breathe, helped me feel something steady. But the truth is, I’m not on the other side yet. The winds haven’t calmed.

Not yet.

A Storm Worth Painting

Summer storm season is in full swing, and I felt inspired to capture the energy and emotion of a dramatic skyscape. If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you know I love breathing new life into old misfit canvases—those pieces I once considered unfinished or unsatisfying. This one was no exception.

Below, I’ve shared a few progress shots that show how the painting has evolved so far. I’m not quite finished yet—there are still a few more layers and details to add—but it’s already coming alive with movement and mood. Stay tuned for the final reveal!

The Ebb and Flow of a Painting

As I build each layer of this painting, I snap photos along the way—documenting both progress and setbacks. Sometimes a layer works beautifully; other times, it doesn’t. That’s all part of my process. In those moments of uncertainty, I try to return to the feeling that inspired the piece: a calm evening by the Mississippi River, the warm breeze brushing past, and the breathtaking glow of the setting sun. I remember the light—how it dimmed gradually, leaving the sun surrounded by a soft, golden halo.

When I began this painting, I started with vibrant colors. At first, they felt right. But when I compared it to the original photo, I realized the sky was too bright. That’s when I began adjusting—introducing deeper blues, burnt umber, and just a touch of white to soften it. I added dabs of lavender and peach to bring balance. Honestly, that’s when frustration crept in. I liked where the painting had been before adding the moodier tones, but the perfectionist in me wanted it to better reflect the photo.

This is usually the moment I know I should walk away, let it breathe for a few days. But instead, I kept pushing to finish. I could call it done, but something still feels off—something I can’t quite name.

Below is a diagram showing the different stages of the painting, with the lower right image showing where it currently stands.

Finished Painting 

Layers, Currents, and a Little Dyslexic Magic

This piece is really starting to come together as I continue building up layers in acrylic. One of the biggest challenges I'm facing is figuring out the direction of the water’s current. The reference photo shows the water shifting in multiple directions, making it tricky to translate accurately on canvas.

To help with this, I often rely on a little trick—I look at the painting in a mirror. Being a bit dyslexic, I sometimes struggle to process alignment and directional flow when staring directly at the canvas. But when I view it through my phone screen or in reverse, things suddenly click. It’s strange, but it works for me!

Can’t wait to share the finished piece soon.

Just about finished 

The beginning 

Mississippi Evening Glow: Continues

 Bringing It to Life, Layer by Layer

Each layer I add continues to breathe life into the painting. One of the biggest challenges has been capturing the river grasses — finding that balance between realism and impressionism, and creating depth. It’s a slow process: adding lighter reeds, then darker ones, stepping back, squinting, and layering again.

I don’t pre-mix my colors (though I know it’s often recommended), so I have to rely heavily on memory and feeling — recalling the warm glow of that evening and the beauty of the landscape I was lucky enough to witness. As I paint, I try to hold onto that moment. I’ve been warming up the tones to reflect that golden light, but also cooling down some of the greenery to keep the composition grounded.

I often second-guess myself as I work — it’s just part of my process.

The piece is coming along well, but there are still many hours ahead before it feels complete. Stay tuned to see how it evolves.

Mississippi Evening Glow: Acrylic Painting In Progress

There’s something magical about walking near the water at dusk—especially along the backwaters of the Mississippi River. On a recent walk down a quiet biking trail, I was struck by the warm, hazy atmosphere. The evening light had a glowing quality, thanks in part to the haze drifting down from the Canadian wildfires. The soft golden tones and the stillness of the landscape stayed with me—and that’s where the inspiration for my latest painting began.

I’m working on a 22 x 28-inch canvas in acrylic, a size that gives me enough space to play with depth and light. To start, I laid down a yellow-orange underpainting to capture the warmth I felt that evening. This base gives a gentle glow to everything that follows, almost like the light behind the memory.

Next, I blocked in the darker shapes of the trees and lower foliage. For that, I mixed blues with touches of orange—leaning on the contrast to build some early structure in the composition. The shadowy areas started to take form, grounding the piece.

The sky, of course, had to be something special. I created a blend using cerulean blue and Prussian blue with white, then added just a dash of dioxazine purple to echo the moodiness of the haze. It’s subtle, but it gives the sky a dreamy, almost surreal quality that matches the evening I remember.

This is just the beginning—there’s still much to refine, layer, and bring to life. Stay tuned as I share more progress in the coming days. I’m excited to see where this painting takes me—and I hope you’ll follow along.

Complete: Remembering Molly

Just wrapped up this little cutie! This portrait was painted on an 8x10 canvas using acrylics. The reference photo was quite dark, with limited detail, and—since it was the only photo the owner had of their beloved pet who has since passed—I had to get a bit creative.

To bring more life and warmth into the piece, I lightened the background to a soft greenish-blue and deepened the red of the blanket she was laying on. I chose to omit the white and yellow blanket in the original image to help the composition flow better and draw more focus to the pet. The owner also requested a collar with her name, which I was happy to incorporate.

Considering the challenges, I’m really pleased with how it turned out. While I usually prefer painting portraits in oils for their richness and blending qualities, time was a factor for this one. Acrylics were the better choice for a quicker turnaround, especially to avoid muddied colors while working in layers.

Now… onto my next painting project!

Photo