In June of 2023, I moved to a new apartment, an old brick building with a courtyard that presented more like a jungle than a garden. It was overtaken by shoulder-tall Datura plants and tangled by a mess of morning glory vines. The irises, planted in rows at the edges, were barely visible in the chaos of weeds. In that moment, I could easily compare my life to the garden— creatively stumped and overwhelmed by change. I felt like I was being choked out of my own life.

As I began the process of pulling weeds that year, clearing the soil for new growth, I fell deeply in love with the plants I’d intended to uproot. Datura, I learned, is a flower of the underworld; associated with the dark unknown, the shadow pieces of ourselves. Pulling up their roots felt like examining the tangle of my own, and I started to wonder if it was possible to untangle and understand them instead of burying my own complexities. The soft flowers would bloom late in the evening or early in the morning, and they were bright- expressive even. I realized I didn’t want them gone, I wanted to paint them.

moon bloom
16” x 20”
acrylic ink + acrylic paint on canvas
2025