Pyjama Party
This whole canvas lives in one warm, rosy monochrome, like an old photograph left too long in the sun. I let the figure curl into herself, knees pulled up, one leg kicked out loose across the sheets, brushwork racing to keep up with the pose before it shifted. The title is a small joke against itself, there is nothing tidy or domestic here, just skin and rumpled cloth and heat.
Register interest
On your own wall, at its true size — opens your camera
