When I created Lunar Freedom, I wasn’t just painting a figure—I was painting a feeling. I wanted to capture a moment of stillness that holds serenity, gratitude, and a deep, undeniable sense of belonging. These emotions lived in me as I worked, and they found form in the woman’s expression, her posture, and the way her body seems to breathe in rhythm with the moonlit water around her. Lunar Escape is available for purchase. Collect it today!
In this piece, the moon, water, and woman are not separate—they echo one another. Each element reflects and holds the others in balance. That unity was important to me. I’ve often felt that real strength comes not from force, but from alignment. When we are in sync with the world around us—its tides, its cycles, its silences—we begin to remember who we are. We belong.
The moon’s soft luminance reveals the woman’s contours gently, not to spotlight her, but to include her—as if she’s always been there, a part of the night sky’s quiet wisdom. In that light, she isn’t just seen. She’s known. She’s free. Lunar Escape is about that kind of freedom—the freedom that comes from knowing yourself and letting that self exist in harmony with everything else.
This painting is a celebration of unity and identity, but also peace—the kind that doesn’t demand attention, just presence. It draws from something universal, but also personal and culturally rooted. It’s an offering, an invitation: to return to nature, to listen inward, and to see yourself as part of something vast and beautiful.
Hence, we are all reflected somewhere in this image: luminous, grounded, held.
Sisterhood of Freedom
She drifts beneath the moonlight,
resting in the knowledge
that she belongs here—
among tides and shadows,
among stars.
The water understands her stillness.
It holds her reflection
like kin returned
from too many journeys—
not broken,
just changed.
Her face lifts gently
toward the lunar pull—
not to escape the earth,
but to remember
she too
was shaped by night and salt.
Everything holds her.
The sky,
the quiet strength of her own being,
the silence between waves.
Nothing needs her to perform.
She breathes, and that is enough.
In this place,
gratitude moves without sound.
It lives in her endurance,
inherited and chosen—
a quiet rebellion
against the need to prove.
And so she stays—
to just be.
The moon watches.
The sea listens.
A sisterhood of light and tide.