Introduction: A New Horizon in Wellesley
There is a specific kind of magic that happens when light hits the horizon just before dusk. In my latest piece, Sunset Mirage, I wanted to capture that fleeting moment of warmth and rhythmic energy—not just as a visual representation, but as an emotional one. I am thrilled to share that this work has found its home at the Beth Urdang Gallery in Wellesley, MA.
Creating this 40×30 acrylic on canvas was a journey of patience, intention, and spiritual alignment. In the world of modern abstract art, we often talk about the “finished product,” but for me, the story begins long before the first pour of pigment. It begins in the quiet of the morning, in a space I call “Space for Grace.”
The Morning Ritual: Space for Grace
Every piece I create is an extension of a spiritual practice. My daily rhythm is anchored in the teachings of the Oneness Movement and Ekam. I am deeply grateful for my morning group, Space for Grace, where we gather virtually to align our hearts and minds.
My day starts at 6:40 a.m. with the Health Practice, a series of movements and breathwork designed to wake up the body’s energy centers. By 7:00 a.m., we transition into a time of sharing—a beautiful moment of human connection that reminds me I am part of something larger than myself. Following this, we enter into the Soul Sync meditation.
Soul Sync is a powerful practice involving conscious breathwork that bridges the gap between the internal self and the divine. It is during this time that I receive Deeksha, a blessing that is deeply connected to sacred music. This blessing is profoundly healing; it feels like a frequency of pure light entering the body. During Deeksha, I set a clear intention, not just for my own day, but for my “soul circle” members, inviting them into the blessing.
Often, after this intense spiritual work, I take a nap. In this post-meditation rest, my dreams are incredibly deep and vivid. This entire sequence—the chanting, the breathing, the blessing, and the rest—is the true “underpainting” of Sunset Mirage. I have found that I must go through this ritual before I start painting. It ensures that I am not just moving paint around a canvas, but acting as a vessel for a higher, healing energy.
Negative Space and the Philosophy of “Less is More”
A hallmark of my work is the use of negative space. I love leaving large areas of the white canvas untouched, allowing the painting to “float.” This aesthetic choice is deeply rooted in a philosophy I share with the legendary modernist architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, who famously believed that “Less is more.”
I believe and agree with this same philosophy. In Sunset Mirage, the white background is not an empty void; it is a sanctuary of clarity. By stripping away the unnecessary and leaving the edges crisp, the golden forms gain more power. Without negative space, the eye has nowhere to rest. Just as Mies van der Rohe used open space to emphasize the beauty of structure, I use it to provide a place for the viewer’s breath to settle. It is in the “less”—the quiet, unpainted moments—that the “more”—the healing energy—truly resonates. For me, negative space represents the “mental space” I cultivate during my morning meditation. Just as we need silence to hear our own thoughts, a painting needs emptiness to truly be seen.
The Delicate Balance: Control vs. Surrender
When I finally enter the studio, the energy of the morning remains with me. My fluid painting process is a physical manifestation of a life lesson we all struggle with: the balance between holding on and letting go.
In Sunset Mirage, you can see this tension in the rhythmic, arching layers of gold, amber, and apricot. Because I work without brushes, I am forced into a more intimate dialogue with the medium. I do not “apply” paint; I guide it. To create these fluid movements, I must maintain a certain level of control—choosing the exact viscosity of the acrylic, the placement of the pour, and the precise angle at which I tilt the 40×30 canvas.
Yet, there is a “threshold of surrender.” Once the paint begins to flow, it takes on a life of its own. I have learned that I cannot force the pigment to be something it isn’t. I have to trust the liquid. It is a delicate dance. At times, the balance works perfectly, and the layers settle into a beautiful, translucent mirage that translates perfectly into calming abstract paintings.
Other times, a “mess” can happen. But even the messes are part of the meditation. They teach me focus and remind me that perfection isn’t the goal—authenticity is. When I am fully present, “letting go” doesn’t feel like a loss of power, but an act of collaboration with gravity and the divine.
The Architecture of Silence: Waiting for the Paint to Breathe
In the studio, I often find myself doing something that might seem counterintuitive in our fast-paced society: I watch the paint dry. There is a distinct kind of fun in it—a “slow cinema” of color settling into fiber.
I manage the layers by learning to wait in between each pour. This is key. The layers need space to dry and, more importantly, space to breathe. If I were to pour the next layer too soon, the colors would muddy, and the distinct, rhythmic arches would lose their clarity. By allowing each wash to settle, I create a sense of depth that feels like looking through a veil of light.
To preserve the integrity of these layers, I never use a fan. Artificial air thins out the painting and dries out the lovely, rich textures prematurely. I prefer an organic way of drying, allowing the work to rest and dry overnight. Returning to the studio the next morning to see how the “mirage” has transformed in the quiet of the night is one of my greatest joys as an artist.
Negative Space and the Power of the “Floating” Canvas
A hallmark of my work is the use of negative space. I love leaving large areas of the white canvas untouched, allowing the painting to “float.”
Without negative space, the eye has nowhere to rest. In Sunset Mirage, the white background provides a sanctuary of clarity around the warm, glowing center. For me, negative space represents the “mental space” I cultivate during my morning meditation. Just as we need silence to hear our own thoughts, a painting needs emptiness to truly be seen. It provides a place for the viewer’s breath to settle.
As I work, I find myself needing to take a conscious breath and let it go. If I am holding my breath—holding onto tension—the movement on the canvas feels forced. When I exhale and surrender, the paint follows suit.
3 Ways Fluid Painting Acts as a Visual Exhale
- Breathable Negative Space: The large areas of untouched white canvas provide a visual sanctuary. Just as we need silence to hear our own thoughts, a painting needs emptiness to truly be seen. It provides a place for the viewer’s breath to settle.
- Organic Movement: Fluid pouring mimics the natural rhythms of water and wind, which actively lowers stress and anxiety.
- Energetic Imprint: The meditative intention set during my morning Soul Sync remains embedded in the color, radiating a quiet, grounded energy into any room it inhabits.
One-of-a-Kind: A Reflection of Identity
I create “one-of-a-kind” pieces because I believe we are all one-of-a-kind. There is no way to mass-produce a feeling or replicate the exact path a liquid takes during a Soul-Sync-inspired pour. Each work is unique, mirroring my own personality and the singular moment of its creation.
When a collector acquires Sunset Mirage, they are securing a singular moment in time—a record of a human being learning to breathe through the unknown. In a world filled with digital reproductions, owning something truly original is a way of honoring our own unique journeys.
Glossary of Spirit
To better understand the foundation of this work, here are the practices that fuel my creativity:
Ekam: A mystic prayer center in India designed for spiritual transformation.
Soul Sync: A meditation involving eight stages of breath and intention to move the practitioner into a state of “limitless consciousness.”
Deeksha: A transfer of divine energy intended to bring about a shift in consciousness and physical healing.
The Oneness Movement: A global spiritual movement focused on the interconnectedness of all life.
An Invitation to Beth Urdang Gallery
I invite you to experience the “physicality” of this piece in person at the Beth Urdang Gallery (15 Central Street, Wellesley, MA). Modern abstract art is a conversation that is best had in person, where you can feel the vibration of the gold pigment and see the depth of the organic layers.
My hope is that when you look at Sunset Mirage, you feel a reflection of the same “calm energy” I felt during its creation. I hope it invites you to take a breath, let go of the day’s weight, and simply exist in the glow of the present moment.