The wax medium naturally lends itself to an impressionistic approach, allowing for softness, movement, and a sense of immediacy within the surface. Its texture encourages a looser handling of form, where marks can remain visible and expressive rather than refined or controlled. This quality opens the door to painting in a way that feels responsive and intuitive.

When I begin a painting, I follow whatever first comes to mind—an instinctive starting point that sets the tone for the entire piece. Often, that initial spark takes the form of poppies in a field. Beyond being a subject I return to frequently, poppies offer a technique I carry into other works: small bursts of color, layered and scattered, that create rhythm and energy across the surface.

This idea of layering and placement ties closely to my ongoing interest in depth of field. I find myself constantly thinking about how the eye moves through a landscape—from the immediate foreground, through the middle ground, and out toward the horizon. There is something compelling about that sense of distance, of looking beyond what is directly in front of you and into something more expansive.

In this particular landscape, that sense of depth is balanced with a softness of atmosphere. There is a feeling that echoes influences I admire, reminiscent of both Pierre-Auguste Renoir and Andrew Wyeth. It’s not a direct reference, but rather a subtle nod to their ability to capture mood, light, and quiet presence within a scene.

The palette brings everything together—shades of green and yellow shifting across the land, set against a light, open sky. These colors work in harmony to create a sense of calm and continuity, reinforcing the balance between structure and atmosphere. The result is a landscape that feels both grounded and airy, inviting the viewer to move through it slowly and take in its quiet depth.