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In the Company of Red

Chasing Color No. 1

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.

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Pears and the Emerald Swallowtail

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.

In progress, Pears and Peacock Swallowtail Butterfly still life fruit oil painting by Rebecca Luncan

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. 💚

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Recent Still Life: Exhibition in Seattle

I’m thrilled to share that I will have paintings on view at Harris Harvey Gallery from September 5 – 28, 2024. I’ve been working on getting ready for the show for a while and it’s wonderful to finally see it come together. Please go the gallery website to see what is still available.

Artist Statement about the Paintings on View

I paint objects of intimate familiarity—fruits and florals from my garden, objects handled in my time as a mount maker for Seattle Art Museum—in compositions inspired by the Dutch Golden Age. Much as the Dutch masters would compose seasonal impossibilities, I bring together inspirations separated by time, space and tradition. My work is a reach for a childhood of birds’ nests and frogs, a longing to grasp that wonderment yet reconcile with isolation and loss. It is a meditation on the comings and goings of life, the closeness and distance to kin of all kinds.

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Back in the Studio

After a brief hiatus to welcome our newest family member, I’m thrilled to be painting again. I had optimistically hoped for pockets of studio time during those first three months with Elliot, but between the sleepless nights and an unfinished kitchen remodel, painting just wasn’t in the cards. These days, I paint when the baby nap and I’m reminded how good it feels to be back at the easel.

A Remarkable Discovery

This new piece features the Fiji Papilio swallowtail, a butterfly with a story as striking as its wings. Native to the island of Vanua Levu, this brilliantly patterned butterfly somehow managed to escape scientific recognition until just a few years ago—a fact that still astonishes researchers.

The butterfly was first photographed in 2017 by ornithologist Gregg Kerr, who was in Fiji as an instructor with Operation Wallacea, a foundation that supports student-led scientific expeditions. Though birds were his focus, Kerr noticed and documented a butterfly so unusual that when he shared the images, some experts suspected a hoax.

Naming the Natewa Swallowtail

The mystery caught the attention of the Swallowtail and Birdwing Butterfly Trust, which dispatched entomologists John Tennent and Richard Markham to investigate. Their fieldwork led to the formal identification and classification of the new species, which they named the Natewa Swallowtail.

Though Tennent has described over 100 new species and subspecies of butterflies in his career, he called this one “easily the most spectacular.” As he put it, “For such an unusual and large new butterfly to be discovered somewhere we thought was so well known is remarkable.”

Fiji Papilio swallowtail still life painting with plums and raspberries by Rebecca Luncan

Painting the Wonder

It’s always a privilege to paint something with such natural beauty—and even more so when its backstory is filled with wonder. This swallowtail is a reminder of how there are still remarkable discoveries to be made, waiting just off the path.

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Forget Me Not: Honoring Still Life Traditions in a Miniature

Forget Me Not, oil on copper, 4.5″ x 5.5″, is the newest addition to my Swallowtail Series—a body of miniature still life paintings inspired by centuries of natural observation and artistic devotion.

This piece is an homage to two 17th-century painters I admire deeply: Jan van Kessel the Elder and Margaretha de Heer. Though I’ve long been a fan of van Kessel’s work, I only recently discovered de Heer. This painting is a celebration of their shared legacy—and a reflection on the way artists learn through looking, studying, and paying tribute.

Two Artists, One Era: Shared Roots in Still Life

Jan van Kessel and Margaretha de Heer were born roughly 20 years apart and just a few hundred miles from each other—van Kessel in Antwerp, Belgium, and de Heer in Friesland, in what is now the Netherlands. Both were born into artist families, and both became known for their vivid depictions of the natural world.

While each created genre scenes and other subjects, it’s their still life work that has most captivated me. Their paintings, often categorized as nature studies, depict insects, flowers, fruits, and other organic forms with striking clarity.

Stylistic Differences: Density vs. Balance

Van Kessel’s work bursts with detail—his compositions packed edge-to-edge with butterflies, beetles, shells, and blossoms. The perspective often shifts, with elements floating freely or perched on undefined surfaces. You get the sense that couldn’t bear to leave any space unused. There’s a beauty in the chaos, and despite the density, his compositions achieve a remarkable balance. The irregular perspectives feel surprisingly contemporary, not disruptive—just part of the visual rhythm.

De Heer’s paintings, while similar in subject matter, evoke a different tone. Her compositions are more spacious and deliberate. She embraces negative space, organizing her elements with a grounded sense of perspective and a graceful visual flow. Her approach feels more lyrical than scientific—a quiet reflection on the beauty of nature rather than a full catalogue of it.

The Butterfly: A Marvel from Central Africa

The butterfly in Forget Me Not is a Blue-banded Swallowtail (Papilio nireus), a striking species native to central and southern Africa. With velvet-black wings and bold, iridescent blue bands, this butterfly commands attention. Though it lacks the tail streamers typical of many swallowtails, it does belong to the Papilionidae (often refered to as Swallowtail) family and is admired for its swift flight and elegance.

in progress Forget Me Not miniature painting, still life representational oil painting with butterfly, grasshopper and bee by Rebecca Luncan

Finding My Place in the Tradition

One of the great joys of working in the still life tradition is learning from the artists who came before me. By studying and incorporating their approaches, I find new ways to think about composition, subject matter, and symbolism. Forget Me Not is undeniably informed by van Kessel and de Heer, but it’s also undeniably mine. It’s a meditation on legacy, observation, and the quiet power of paying attention.

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Botanical Painting with Swallowtail Butterflies

Asian Swallowtails

For the month of April, I have made a botanical painting with swallowtail butterflies. The two lovely butterflies in my new painting look like completely different species, but they are in fact both Papilio lowis (Asian Swallowtails). The great difference in appearance is present in the male and the female of this species, which is called sexual dimorphism. Often the male has brighter colors to attract the females’ attention, like this dark butterfly with iridescent blue/green scales; the males are also smaller.

Scientists attribute this to differing pressures on the sexes, but the reasons for dimorphism seem to be as diverse as the species themselves! In the case of this pair, the females mimic a type of poisonous butterfly, discouraging predators. The males meanwhile kept their brilliant iridescent colors, which apparently the females find quite attractive. 

Asian Swallowtial oil painting still life by Rebecca Luncan

Inspiration from Art History

The inspiration for the composition on my botanical painting and the background goes back to my 14 years installing artwork for the Seattle Art Museum. I installed countless Chinese and Japanese scroll paintings, and even went to Japan a few times as a courier to oversee the installation of various asian masterpieces for the exhibition, “Luminous Jewels”. One of my favorite scroll paintings in that exhibition was, “Sixty-Four Butterflies and Moths”. The mass of insects flutter evenly throughout the painting, each with its own label. While this painting didn’t directly influence the composition for my painting, the delicate rendering of the butterflies always stuck with me. Thinking of this painting helped set the direction of how this painting would develop. 

I hope you’re enjoy this month’s painting, and I hope you’re beginning to enjoy some warmer weather. I’m looking forward to the season when I see more butterflies outside the studio than inside it! Follow my newsletter to see the new monthly miniature and for exhibition updates.

work in progress still life floral botanical painting asian Swallowtail by Rebecca Luncan
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Old World Swallowtail Butterfly Painting

Old World Swallowtails

The most studied of all swallowtails, this iconic butterfly was the first to be given the name, “swallowtail.” It is the only swallowtail in most of Europe, and I’m guessing that’s where it gets one of its two most-used common names, “Old World swallowtail” (the other, simply “swallowtail”).  But its actual habitat is widespread and extends across much of the Northern Hemisphere, including North America. 

The painting includes both a male and female, the male with his wings folded, and the female with hers open.

This species feeds mostly on plants of family Umbelliferae. The giant cluster of tiny flowers were a bit intimidating to paint, but it was worth pushing through. I love the contrast between the cloud of flowers and the black background.

Though these flowers are not currently blooming, spring is just around the corner, so it won’t be long now. Stay warm if you’re in the middle of a snow storm! And cool if you’re in the middle of a heatwave! The weather’s been crazy this past week.

Old World Swallowtail, oil painting on aluminum by Rebecca Luncan still life painting
Old World Swallowtails, oil on aluminum, 5.5″ x 4.5″

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New Limited Edition Prints Available

For the first time in a year, I’ve added added two new limited edtition prints to the shop.

Both of the new images come from paitnings in my monthly miniature series titled Creature Comforts and feature foods to brighten spirits in dark times.

My painting “Plums” featuring these golden orbs bursting with juice and flavor, along with one of my favorite visitors in the garden, Swallowtail butterflies. The bowl is from the collection of the Seattle Art Museum, where I worked as a mountmaker and made hundreds of mounts for the porcelain room. Though I was able to touch and document the lovely bowl, filling it with plums was all in my imagination.

The second of the new limited edition prints on offer is one titled “Simple Pleasures“.

Homemade bread has made a serious comeback over the last few years. I got a bit of a head start on the trend because I got a bread maker for Christmas just before the pandemic started. My husband is gluten-free so his intentions were a bit selfish but that’s OK–I love baking! Fresh bread and warmed up brie is such a simple, yet perfect combination.

This painting was created during the month of April, while it was still cold outside but signs of spring were starting to appear. Robbins and tulips were putting on a beautiful show and I brought them from the garden to the table to help enjoy the simple feast.

I hope you enjoy these two new prints available in the shop, and if there’s a painting you’d like to see offered as a print, let me know. I’m having two new prints added a year and will take your request into account when choosing the next pair to become available.

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Swallowtail and Thistle Still Life Painting

Swallowtail Butterflies, New Series of Miniatures

The main subject for this years series of monthly miniatures will be my favorite kind of butterfly, the swallowtail. With over 550 different species, they appear in a vast array of colors, shapes and sizes and I will have no shortage of inspiration. For this painting, I chose the Pipeline Swallowtail. This butterfly is found in extensive areas of North America; in the United States, it’s mainly found in the south and southeast, plus an isolated pocket in central California.


I paired my swallowtail with thistle flowers, which are a favorite (of mine and of the butterfly). The flowers on a thistle stalk don’t usually bloom all at once, but I’ve taken some liberties. I was inspired by the compositions of the Dutch still life painter Jan van Kessel. Van Kessel worked in the mid 17th century, at the height of the golden age of Dutch still life painting. It was common practice during this time to create paintings that were seasonal impossibilities, pairing blooms that appear months apart in nature, or all of a plant’s blooms open at once, as I’ve done here. I wanted to create this simple moment, full of plenty for my butterfly.  I love the contrast of a vibrant thistle in bloom. Thistles have the perfect pairing of soft flowers and spikey leaves and stems.

Some of you are squeamish about insects, and I hope you’ll indulge my love of these delicate creatures. Rest assured, I will be creating work for the gallery in the upcoming year, both with and without insects. 😉

pipevine swallowtail and bull thistle, representational oil painting on copper by Seattle artist Rebecca Luncan


After my crazy, overloaded 2022, I can’t tell you how happy I am to have this painting finished by the first week of January! I wish you a Happy New Year, full of deadlines met ahead of schedule.

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New Still Life Series for a New Year

The theme for my new still life series will be the idea of “Simplify”. I’ve been thinking a lot about simplifying my life and trying to learn how to set aside much-needed time for relaxation and contemplation. I’ve titled my series for this year “Simplify” and I’m hoping to bring that idea into my life in the coming year. Contemplating the idea in how I’m composing my work seemed like the perfect way to start (but it’s harder than you might think!).

Oranges are in season now, at their peak of flavor during these cold winter months. Beyond being delicious to eat and beautiful to look at, for me oranges have become a personal metaphor for pushing through and staying alert.

Years ago, I worked full time as a mount-maker for the Seattle Art Museum while also painting full time. I was also an avid hiker and practiced ballet and Iaido (a Japanese martial art). Each day was packed full. And each day around three o’clock my body would protest and demand that I take a nap. After trial and error with way too much coffee and chocolate, I found that oranges not only tasted refreshing but made my whole body feel refreshed. Oranges perked me up perfectly and gave me the second wind I needed to get me through until I could take a nice, long nap on the bus ride home. “Orange time” soon caught on with my coworkers and became a daily ritual.

I hope you enjoy the first painting of this new series! Sign up for my Newsletter if you’d like to see the series as it unfolds.