Animals are more than companions. They are reflections. Messengers. Mirrors of our soul.
The ones we feel closest to often carry the values we cherish most deeply.
They echo our inner truths with a softness the world often forgets.

This painting is called Bumble, not just for the bee, but for the child I was… and the mother who saw me.

Mouse’s story is one of quiet resilience, divine timing, and the sacred bond that can form between a human and a small creature who simply needed to be seen. He was never just a cat. He was a gift.

In painting “The First Ascent”, I found myself reaching for a feeling more than an image: the sacred presence that arises when two souls meet without words. The horse’s bowed head and the woman’s closed eyes mirror a silent prayer—not for answers, but for connection. Through this, I am reminded that the Divine often looks like a quiet breath shared in companionship, an invisible thread spun from love and the yearning to ascend.

The horse came to me as a vision of arrival. Not rushing. Not resisting. Just standing in golden light, breathing with the world. Around him flew a bee and hummingbirds — delicate, ancient, sacred. They carried messages I didn’t hear, but deeply felt.

From the earliest days I can remember, animals have been the golden thread weaving peace, purpose, and presence into the fabric of my life. But it was the horse that first whispered to my soul.

A white horse with golden wings descends into water, light pouring from his mane.
Below him, a spirit-fish floats, still and silent — caught in that sacred space between here and heaven.
And though no words pass between them, their golden threads speak everything.

Fleeting Freedom was born from one of those moments. A black horse emerged in my vision, not galloping, but gliding — as if running through a prayer. Her mane moved like water, her hooves barely touched the earth, and around her danced hummingbirds.

The Morrígan isn’t here to comfort.
She’s here to clarify.
To tell you the truth before you're ready to hear it — and to remind you that endings are sacred, too.

There is a moment between heartbeat and breath where the soul speaks — and in that silence, the horse listens.

This painting captures a spirit in motion, emerging from shadow into divine light. The wind in her mane carries more than air — it carries memory, wildness, and the unseen golden threads that connect her to something higher.

He was born for something greater than the cage.

I painted this lion in silence — not the kind that is empty, but the kind that is listening. Listening to the ache in his eyes, the story his body still held. A lion, once bound in an illegal circus. Forced to perform, to roar on command. Yet beneath the noise, his soul remembered stillness, dignity, and the wild.