“Blue Green Glaze” explores the space where landscape and memory blur—a pasture of color where a cow emerges and recedes like a thought returning. I worked with layered, translucent passages of blue and green to evoke sky over field, letting drifts of orange and earth tones pulse through like warmth in the grasses. The animal appears within these veils rather than on top of them: a presence sensed first in silhouette and gesture, then found in the turns of paint.

I’m drawn to the moment when recognition happens—when abstraction opens and the viewer suddenly sees the muzzle, the sweep of horn, the calm weight of a body at graze. That flicker of discovery is the heartbeat of this piece. The surface carries both brisk marks and quiet scrapes, suggesting wind in the grass, clouds sliding overhead, and the soft, ruminant rhythm of the pasture.

The title speaks to process as much as palette. Glazes and scumbles build a luminous field where color is the subject and the cow is its echo—nature distilled into mood and movement. “Blue Green Glaze” invites a slower look, asking viewers to let their eyes adjust the way they do outdoors: patiently, until form rises from color and the ordinary becomes gently radiant.