Eyes of the Prairie
"24 x "36 oil on canvas
$1,800
It is my hope that when you look at Eyes of the Prairie, her gaze stops you the way the wind stops you on the open plains—bold, unflinching, and full of stories. Those amber eyes are the sky at dawn after a long prairie night, reflecting untamed beauty and the quiet brutality that’s shaped the land for generations. As you study her expression, I want you to feel the endless horizons she’s stood beneath, the storms she’s weathered, and the secrets whispered in tall grass. Above all, I hope you leave remembering that, like her, each of us—one lifetime, one set of experiences—becomes a witness to a story far larger than ourselves.
Dust and Dreams
"36 x "36 oil on canvas
$1,200
Dust and Dreams is my little anthem for never quitting. I pictured all of us getting knocked flat, the world kicking up dust around our ambitions—only for us to shake it off, stand up, and zero back in on our goals. The rough textures are the grit we collect along the way; the brighter streaks are that spark inside us that won’t die. When you look at it, I hope you feel that surge of “okay, dust off and keep going” energy—because the only thing more inspiring than a dream is chasing it again after you fall.
Ike and Kate
NOT AVAILABLE FOR SALE
I painted these two gentle giants—Ike and Kate—as an anniversary gift for my husband, honoring one of his favorite childhood memories. His grandpa, whom he loved like a father, had a pair of mules just like them, and every spring my husband would watch his grandpa plow the fields behind Ike and Kate’s steady hooves. In this painting, each strap and soft curve of their muzzles carries a chapter of that story: the early‑morning light dancing in their warm eyes, the quiet strength they lent to every furrow, and the unspoken bond between man and beast. More than paint on wood, this piece is my way of preserving that memory—of celebrating loyalty and hard work, and of gifting my husband a slice of his family’s past that still guides every brushstroke.
Braving Winter
"24 x "36 oil on board
Braving Winter lived in my mind long before a single pencil ever touched paper. I could see her so clearly—the young woman in quiet profile, her bronzed skin catching a warm glow against the swirl of mist and snow, dark braids threaded with red-and-white feathers, and that rich crimson cloak billowing like breath in the cold.
I chased that vision through countless studies, balancing precise portraiture with loose, expressive textures until she finally emerged from the fog exactly as I’d imagined.
I love this piece so much I refuse to sell it—it hangs front and center on my studio wall, a daily reminder of how far I’ve come and how powerful following a dream can be.
Available in giclee only (frame not included). $350.00
24'x36' on deep matte photographic paper.
No Name
SOLD
I ended up calling this one “No Name”—because, honestly, it had no title when I posted those first tentative brushstrokes online. I shared the very beginning stages on social media, just raw board and paint, and before I even got a chance to finish it, a private collector snapped it up. It felt fitting: the piece still mid‑creation, its story unwritten, yet already finding its own path. “No Name” is a little reminder that sometimes art takes on a life of its own—no label needed.
Unmovable
SOLD
"24 x "36 oil on canvas
$1,000
In Unmovable, I wanted to capture the quiet power of a spirit rooted so deeply it can’t be shaken. His steady gaze, set against that smoky, abstract backdrop, speaks of the mountains and plains he calls home—uncharted territory that’s both beautiful and unforgiving. Every detail, from the gleam of turquoise beads at his throat to the soft white fur draped over his shoulders, represents layers of tradition and resilience passed down through generations. The red cloak hints at both celebration and sacrifice, while the single feather tucked behind his ear reminds us of the delicate balance between strength and vulnerability. When I look at this painting, I feel the weight of history pressing gently into the present, and I hope viewers sense the same unspoken resolve: a reminder that, no matter the storms we face, there’s a part of us that stands unwavering.
