“Sunshine Sunflower” stands like a small relic of quiet hands and long afternoons—an object that seems to have gathered its own history simply by existing. The frame, softened to a weathered gold, carries the look of something that has traveled through sun and dust, its carved edges holding the memory of time passing slowly.
Inside, the green backdrop feels like worn canvas left out on a porch rail, touched by wind and summer heat. At its center, the amber‑yellow sunflower glows with the warmth of late light—like a piece of glass found half‑buried in sand, lifted and turned until it catches the day just right.
The fabric beneath adds a gentle counterpoint, a reminder of domestic moments—fabric saved, folded, and brought out again when the air feels still enough to notice small things. Together, these textures create a sense of pause, as if the piece is holding a breath, waiting for someone to lean close and see what it has kept.
This artwork feels like a keepsake from a place where light lingers and objects earn their beauty slowly. A small, intimate treasure that invites the viewer to imagine the hands that shaped it and the quiet spaces it once belonged to.
This is a one inch round painting on a wooden disc with a glass cover, the wooden disc has a navajo tear stone attached at the top which was respectfully gathered from my own property, the disc is attached to 4×4.5 inch frame with green fabric backing.
“Sunshine Sunflower” stands like a small relic of quiet hands and long afternoons—an object that seems to have gathered its own history simply by existing. The frame, softened to a weathered gold, carries the look of something that has traveled through sun and dust, its carved edges holding the memory of time passing slowly.
Inside, the green backdrop feels like worn canvas left out on a porch rail, touched by wind and summer heat. At its center, the amber‑yellow sunflower glows with the warmth of late light—like a piece of glass found half‑buried in sand, lifted and turned until it catches the day just right.
The fabric beneath adds a gentle counterpoint, a reminder of domestic moments—fabric saved, folded, and brought out again when the air feels still enough to notice small things. Together, these textures create a sense of pause, as if the piece is holding a breath, waiting for someone to lean close and see what it has kept.
This artwork feels like a keepsake from a place where light lingers and objects earn their beauty slowly. A small, intimate treasure that invites the viewer to imagine the hands that shaped it and the quiet spaces it once belonged to.
This is a one inch round painting on a wooden disc with a glass cover, the wooden disc has a navajo tear stone attached at the top which was respectfully gathered from my own property, the disc is attached to 4×4.5 inch frame with green fabric backing.
