Painting

Dendrite Garden

A matched diptych — two small canvases alive with hundreds of interference dots clustered against deep black, threaded together by branching gold and electric yellow veins. The dot fields shift through regions of violet, teal, blue, green, pink, and silver-white, each cluster bleeding into the next like bioluminescent colonies. The gold linework crawls across both panels with an organic, dendritic logic — part neural map, part winter canopy, part lightning frozen mid-strike. Displayed side by side, the two panels mirror and converse with each other, the branching networks reaching across the gap between them. Every dot is painted in Golden Interference acrylic, which means the color you see depends entirely on where you stand. Walk past this pair and the teal zones flip to copper, the blues deepen to violet, the pinks warm to gold. Against the black ground, each dot becomes its own tiny lens of shifting light. The yellow veins stay constant — an anchor line for the eye while everything else around them moves. I built these up dot by dot, working both canvases simultaneously so the compositions would talk to each other. The gold branching was laid down with a liner brush in quick, intuitive gestures — no planning, just following the energy of the marks. Then the interference dots were packed in tight, hundreds of them, filling the negative space with clustered light. The raised texture of the gold lines and the dimensional dots give these small pieces a physical presence that rewards close inspection. Painted at my homestead studio in Riverside, Washington — a pair of small works with the density and detail of something much larger.