Some dreams disappear the moment we wake up. Others linger in fragments: a feeling, an image, a conversation, a place. We try to gather the pieces and make sense of them, but they never come back quite the way they were.

This collection lives in that space. In the first painting, I kept thinking about those first moments after waking, when a dream is still close enough to touch but already starting to slip away. The pale blue forms reminded me of a bed, and the scattered shapes and marks felt like pieces I was trying to reconstruct before they vanished. The more I painted, the more it felt like reaching for something I almost remembered.

The second painting goes somewhere more familiar and less findable. Have you ever been somewhere in a dream that felt completely familiar, even though you knew it didn’t really exist? Fragments of places, pathways, structures, and landscapes seemed to appear and disappear beneath the paint. Nothing ever became fully clear, yet the feeling of recognition stayed. It wasn’t a specific memory or location. It was the sensation of almost remembering something just out of reach, a place I was certain I knew but could never quite find again.

Together, these paintings aren’t trying to hold onto the dream. They’re trying to honor the feeling it leaves behind.