This month’s featured print is Blueberry Pancakes—a tribute to comfort, ritual, and the kind of quiet morning we all dream of, especially mothers.
Originally painted for the Monthly Miniatures, Creature Comfort series in May, this piece was my version of the perfect Mother’s Day breakfast: pancakes stacked high with melting butter, a rich latte in a Blue Willow cup, and a single iris in an antique hand vase.
The composition echoes the Dutch still life tradition, but with a distinctly contemporary touch. It’s about everyday beauty—something made by hand, savored slowly, and shared with love.
Fine art prints of this piece are now available in the shop. Printed on archival paper, signed, and ready to ship.
Order by Tuesday, May 7th for Mother’s Day delivery.
These two portraits—of Winston the dog and Sloop the cat—were painted for my longtime friend Michael Alm, a sculptor and furniture maker whose distinctive patterned plywood designs often appear in his work. Michael’s eye for materials and love for his pets made this pair especially meaningful to paint.
Capturing Winston
Winston, a black-and-white mixed breed dog, is shown seated in front of one of Michael’s plywood cabinets. I knew from the start that I wanted to include the signature texture and angles of the furniture in this piece. The lighting is direct, casting sharp reflections on the concrete floor and giving the portrait a grounded, contemporary atmosphere.
Because of the highly detailed nature of my painting process, it’s essential that the composition is finalized before I pick up a brush. In the original reference photo, a dark cushion intersected Winston’s head—visually distracting and not ideal for framing his face. I digitally repositioned the furniture so that his head was cradled by a clean section of patterned plywood. The cabinet’s perspective and Winston’s gaze naturally lead your eye to the left, but a carefully placed handle at the edge of the painting subtly redirects your attention, bringing you back into the portrait.
A Portrait of Sloop
Sloop, Michael’s ginger cat, was painted lounging on a sofa, one of his favorite spots. I included one of his toys in the foreground and modified the background to echo the teal green of his eyes, a decision that emphasized his vibrant coloring. Unlike Winston’s more structured setting, Sloop’s portrait is softer and more intimate—matching his feline charm.
Honored Recognition
The portrait of Winston received an Honorable Mention in The Artist Network’s 4th Annual Best of Show | Pets Art Competition. It will be featured alongside other winners in the September/October 2025 issue of Artists Magazine and on ArtistsNetwork.com.
More About Michael Alm
Michael’s work as a sculptor and woodworker is both thoughtful and meticulous. You can explore his creations on his website almfab.com or follow his build videos and creative projects on his YouTube channel, which has over 600,000 subscribers.
Chasing Color is a new series of miniature paintings that explores how a single hue can influence mood, memory, and meaning. Each piece centers around one dominant color, building a world from fruits, florals, porcelain, and wildlife. The technique is classical, inspired by Dutch Golden Age still life, but the stories are personal—drawn from my life, home, and history.
This first painting is a meditation on red: bold, passionate, and deeply rooted in memory.
A Cardinal’s Comfort
The cardinal has always meant “home” to me. Growing up in the Midwest, they were a familiar flash of color in winter trees, and even now, seeing one feels like a kind of homecoming. In this painting, the bird perches on a porcelain bowl inspired by an 18th-century Chinese piece from The Met. Its deep Sang de Boeuf glaze mirrors the cardinal’s feathers and also nods to my former life as a mountmaker at the Seattle Art Museum, where I spent 14 years working with pieces like this.
From My Garden
The other elements are more grounded—literally. Every fruit and flower came from my own garden. The cherries were from my tree’s final season; it died not long after, but not before gifting me the biggest harvest I’d ever had. I took dozens of reference photos (and baked two pies!) from that one harvest. Since cherries are often symbols of paradise, maybe it’s time I plant another.
A painted lady butterfly, emblem of transformation, rests on a leaf. We’ve raised and released three rounds of these butterflies from tiny caterpillars—it’s a magical process, and one I love sharing with my kids. The strawberries? Let’s just say I believe every garden should have them. Homegrown strawberries taste like a completely different fruit than the store bought variety.
Generational Threads
And then there’s the poppy. My grandfather, who emigrated from Romania in the 1920s, loved poppies. My dad grew them in remembrance of him, and now I grow them for my dad. It’s a small tradition, but a meaningful one—and one that made its way into this painting.
It’s incredible how much can be packed into a 5 x 5″ space. Even a single strawberry can carry a story.
This piece, In the Company of Red, is now on its way to its new home in San Francisco. I hope it brings a little warmth, a little memory, and maybe a spark of connection to its new home.
Making oil paintings is slow, thoughtful work. Before my brush ever touches a copper panel, the process involves weeks of gathering inspiration, researching, photographing references, creating digital mock-ups, and preparing my surface.
In an age of instant AI-generated artwork, I see the value in slowing down. Painters have faced similar upheavals since the invention of photography—and yet painting endures. I believe there’s a reason: nothing replaces the depth and intimacy of handmade art.
A Series Two Years in the Making
This month marks a milestone: the twelfth and final piece in my Swallowtail Butterfly Painting Series. Over the past two years, my “monthly” miniatures have been more “bi-monthly” miniatures as I navigate life with a new member of the family. Even with all the chaos of going through pregenancy and having a demanding infant I’m the primary caregiver for, I’ve somehow completed one painting after another, each pairing a swallowtail species with unique botanical elements. This final work celebrates not just the butterfly but the joy of slow, intentional living.
Slow Food, Slow Art
To highlight that theme, I included two of my favorite “slow foods”: pomegranates and walnuts. Sure, you can buy them prepped and packaged. But if you’ve ever cracked a walnut or dug out the seeds from a pomegranate, you know the quiet satisfaction that comes from doing it yourself.
The same can be said for painting. My work takes time—and that time adds flavor.
Featuring the Rajah Brooke’s Birdwing
This painting features a male Rajah Brooke’s Birdwing butterfly, part of the Papilionidae family (which includes all swallowtails). These dazzling creatures are native to rainforests across Southeast Asia and have a wingspan of up to 6.5 inches. Their vivid green-and-black coloring makes them look like flying stained glass. In fact, they’re so large they’re often mistaken for birds—hence the name “birdwing.”
What Comes After the Swallowtails?
The past year brought big changes—especially having a one-year-old at home. Time for painting has been more limited, and I’ve learned to be gentle with myself and realistic with my goals.
So instead of monthly miniatures, my next project will ofically unfold as bi-monthly miniature paintings throughout 2025 and 2026. I’ve been deep in the planning stage—sketching, researching, and refining ideas—and I’m almost ready to begin.
Thank you for following along on this journey. I hope you’ll continue with me as the next series takes flight.
I’m thrilled to introduce you to a dear friend and incredibly talented artist, Joey Bates, who has recently taken on the Monthly Miniature challenge alongside me. Joey and I first met years ago in Seattle at a weekly open studio co-hosted by artist Tim Marsden and myself. Though Joey now lives in Sweden, we’ve been able to rekindle that creative exchange through Signal, thanks to a fellow artist and mutual friend, Susan Lewandowski.
This month, Joey and I decided to take on a shared theme: dragonflies. Scroll down to see his November miniature—a stunningly intricate cut-paper dragonfly that showcases his signature precision and attention to detail.
If you’re not yet familiar with Joey’s work, I can’t recommend it highly enough. His pieces are thoughtful, beautiful, and quietly powerful. I’m so excited to see where the Monthly Miniature journey takes him, and I hope you’ll follow along too.
As November’s chill settles in and the leaves skitter around outside, I’m bringing a little warmth to the season with a new monthly miniature painting—a composition drawn from memories of summer in the garden.
Sixteen years ago, I transformed our quarter-acre lawn into a terraced garden. It’s become a haven for life— fruit trees, hundreds of flowers, a vegetable patch, dragonflies from nearby Lake Stickney, and a revolving door of pollinators and birds. On any sunny day, it feels like stepping into a living still life.
With such abundance to choose from, selecting elements for this painting was like plucking gems from a tree. I take hundreds of flower photos each season, and my husband and I photograph insects and birds whenever we can. But combining them into a single harmonious composition isn’t always as simple as it sounds.
This painting had been on my mind since May. I sketched dozens of versions—none of them quite right. But as often happens in the creative process, the pieces churned quietly in the background until, months later, everything finally clicked. It’s always a little mysterious—and always a surprise when it happens that way.
A Conversation with the Past
If you’re a fan of art history, you might see echoes of Jan van Kessel in this piece. His jewel-like insect, shell, and flower studies have long inspired me. There’s even a tiny beetle in my painting copied directly from one of his works. He painted that little fellow more than once, and placing him among my own subjects feels like a quiet conversation across centuries. Art has a beautiful way of collapsing time like that.
The composition may feel like a snapshot of spring, but it’s arriving in November, as I hunker down in my chilly carport-turned-studio, space heater blazing, dreaming of radiant blooms and buzzing wings. One day we’ll get around to insulating the concrete floor. Till then, I have dreams of warmth and one very hot left leg.
As we head into the holidays, I hope this piece brings a little color and warmth your way. May you find joy in small things and inspiration in unexpected places.
This month’s monthly miniature marks the welcome return of my pear harvest—and the chance to feature one of my favorite fruits in a painting once again. For years, our tree produced more pears than we knew what to do with, sometimes into the thousands. But after several seasons of low yields, I was thrilled to gather around 200 this fall. It felt like reconnecting with an old friend.
I originally planned to paint a western tiger swallowtail I spotted on a fallen pear in the garden, but as I started working on the composition, I swapped it for an emerald swallowtail. The striking green tones of the emerald suited the palette I had in mind, allowing for a nearly monochromatic background with subtle hits of red and orange. Though the butterfly is native to Southeast Asia, but it’s a popular species in butterfly houses around the world so you may have seen them anywhere you call home.
A Shift in Mood
The creative process behind this piece took an unusual turn for me. I began with a pale cream background—an approach more reminiscent of the sparse still lifes of Jan van Kessel. But halfway through painting, I realized it wasn’t offering the mood I was after. So, I made a rare decision to change direction. I repainted the background dark and added a stone table inspired directly by one of Adriaen Coorte’s compositions. The result is a richer, moodier setting that feels more grounded and contemplative.
This kind of mid-course correction is rare in my practice—because my paintings are so detailed, I typically finalize the composition before I begin painting. But in this case, the shift felt essential.
From the Studio
Getting this piece finished in time was no small feat. My youngest is starting to walk, we just wrapped up my show at Harris Harvey Gallery, and our home is in full project mode. Life feels full to the brim—but I wouldn’t have it any other way. 💚
“He’s a very special boy, he is very gentle and loves people and is missing an ear and back foot from being attacked when he was a baby. I bottle-fed him and raised him for the last nine years. I feel like you are the perfect person to capture my sweet boy.” — Maryel, Peter’s person
Maryel’s words say it all. I thought of him as “Peter the Brave” the entire time I was painting his portrait, and it felt right for the title of the painting to reflect that. Most rabbits wouldn’t survive a trauma like his—rabbits can die just from shock. But Peter did. He’s a gentle spirit with a good strong heart.
A Quiet Tribute in the Dutch Tradition
Peter’s portrait was painted in oil on aluminum, just 4 x 4 inches. The soft, greenish-grey background gently fades into darkness—a quiet, moody space inspired by Dutch Golden Age portraiture. That compositional style, with its dramatic lighting and deep shadows, felt like the right way to honor such a dignified little soul.
Painting rabbits isn’t something I get to do often, though I’m always thrilled when I do. I grew up with rabbits myself, and earlier this year I said goodbye to my own English Spot, Harriet—who, coincidentally, looked a lot like Peter. When a prey animal like a rabbit learns to trust and love you, it’s no small thing. That relationship becomes something rare and deeply meaningful.
A Heartfelt Thank You
Thank you, Maryel, for trusting me with Peter’s portrait. It was a joy to spend time with him through paint, and I hope the finished piece brings you comfort and joy for many years to come.
If you’re interested in commissioning a portrait, I’d love to work with you. Click here to learn more, and feel free to reach out with questions.
After a nearly yearlong hiatus, I’m thrilled to return to my Monthly Miniature tradition! Not coincidentally, my son just celebrated his first birthday. Over the past year, my limited studio time has been devoted to commissions and preparing a body of work for exhibition at Harris Harvey Gallery (open now — more on that soon).
Even while busy, I’ve deeply missed the Monthly Miniature series. It’s been a creative anchor for me — a way to share new ideas and connect with you. Having that regular rhythm to shape and develop my work is something I’m grateful to have again.
Revisiting an Idea with New Perspective
This month’s miniature, “Cuban Cattlehearts and the Mum,” builds on a painting I created last year, “Common Rose Swallowtail and the Mum” (see below). Though the compositions and subjects are similar, the mood of each piece is quite different.
Following my ongoing study of historical still life painting, I drew inspiration for this work from:
In this piece, I wanted to intentionally explore the effect of background color — trading the darker background for a lighter one. Though it’s a simple shift, this kind of experimentation helps me better understand how mood, meaning, and composition work together in my paintings. Interestingly, having a few elements well defined actually gives me more freedom to respond to all the unexpected decisions that arise while creating.
Looking Ahead
Usually, I have a list of ideas waiting in the wings for the next miniature. Right now, I’m embracing the unknown — taking some quiet moments to reflect on the new work at the gallery and imagine where this journey might lead next.
I hope this post finds you well, and that you enjoy the new painting! Fingers crossed you’ll hear from me again soon. Until then, enjoy the last of the warm weather if you can, and take time to notice the small wonders outdoors.
Harris Harvey have produced a lovely video walk through of my paintings. For details, prices and availability see harrisharveygallery.com/ . Exhibition on view at Harris Harvey Gallery through September 28, 2024.
