“You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” – Mary Oliver
Sometimes who you were at five years old is the most actualized and genuine version of yourself. Over the past year I’ve followed that inner child, exploring and returning to what came most natural. A snake eating its own tail. A rebirth of oneself. When the Ice Melts (2026) explores the cyclical nature of life and childhood nostalgia, fleeting moments longing to be preserved. A bedroom window cracked open in the spring with the sound of morning doves to wake up to. Tall grass swaying in the wind.
Animal symbolism has been a recurring theme in my artistic practice over the past two years; frogs, snakes, and cows becoming important characters central to the narrative. Surrounded by farmland in rural Connecticut, I’ve felt inspired by the animals I’ve come accustomed to seeing—often taking photos of pastoral scenes and then later referencing them in my oil paintings.
When the Ice Melts focuses on a young calf, a figure of innocence and vulnerability. Tucked into a body of cartoon flowers, the comfort in her solitude is met with a dull, yet deep pining. I wanted to hold space for the sadness of growing pains while appreciating the beauty of returning to one’s roots.
Partially concealed among the petals, a snake—an allusion to the ouroboros—represents self-reflection and eternal cycles of life and death. Not demanding attention, the snake acts as an easter egg waiting to be revealed.
The style of the foreground and background contrast with the rendering of the calf, further amplifying the subtle tension in the piece. Inspired by old Disney animated films, specifically Bambi (1942), I painted the flowers using a soft, pastel color palette with a more minimalist approach. Using large brushstrokes to convey the swaying grass, it was important to emphasize mood and movement over fine detail.
