2025 was a year of extremes—high highs and low lows. Each day carried moments of startling beauty and discovery, alongside grief, both from personal loss and from witnessing the suffering in the world. In the midst of it all, art became my refuge. Long hours at the easel, the familiar weight of a brush in my hand, the slow conversation between eye, heart, and paint—these were steadying. It was a productive year, shaped by periods of deep focus and the rare, sustaining gift of creative flow, when time dissolves and the work seems to find its own way. That feeling, more than anything, carried me through. Of my more thank 55 paintings that I did this year, this a collection of 8 pieces that taught me the most—unsurprisingly, landscapes and animals, my favorite subjects. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed creating them.

STILLNESS 16 x 20 oil on linen

This is the view from my childhood home, as familiar to me as my own mother’s face. I know every crag and canyon by heart. And yet, as with all landscape painting, the work is in learning what to edit out—paring the scene down to what matters most. On this particular morning, twenty degrees below zero, fog and snow softened the land, simplifying it into a visual poem. Edges dissolved, forms quieted, and the world offered itself with an economy of shape and light. My joy came in honoring that stillness, rendering the gentle hush of this winter landscape.

THE BREEZE AT DAWN 40 X 30 oil on linen

One of my life goals is to not die “with any music left inside of me.” For more than thirty years, I’ve picked up a brush or pencil to give form to ideas, believing that art exists to make the invisible visible. This painting stayed with me for years, and bringing it from my mind and heart onto the canvas felt both exciting and deeply satisfying. The spark came from Emile Pandolfi’s album cover Believe, and a simple wondering: how might a dancing figure become a wild animal? Here, mythic movement settles into stillness—soulful eyes meet yours, while edges soften and dissolve into the low light of morning.

WHAT THE MAGPIES KNOW 40 X 30 oil on linen

Magpies—members of the corvid family, known for their intelligence and mischief—are regular visitors to my studio. With their sharp black-and-white markings and clattering calls, they arrive daily without apology. This painting traces them across moments rather than form alone: arriving, observing, ascending. Whether these are many birds or one presence unfolding through time is left unresolved, allowing the space between them to hold as much meaning as the birds themselves—a dynamic field of attention and awakening.

STRONGHOLD 36 X 36 oil on rag

It’s hard to choose a favorite animal in our ecosystem, but mule deer are strong contenders. I’m captivated by their beauty, elegance, and resilience. Perfectly adapted to our high elevations, their population is nonetheless in decline due to habitat loss and fragmentation, disease, and vehicle collisions. I wanted this painting to feel hopeful—a breath of fresh air—leaving you with a sense of strength and balance.

AMBER GAZE 10 X 10 oil on rag

This painting wasn’t planned — it began rather accidentally with a surface stained with tea and a playful curiosity about the shapes that had formed. As Michelangelo said, “Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it,” and I felt the same sense of discovery here, revealing a fox image rather than imposing any plan. The best images come when I let go of over-thinking and controlling, and instead allowing what wants to emerge.

IN THE STILLNESS, YOU 40 X 30 oil

This painting is an offering—painted in gratitude for a relationship that brought profound richness to my life. We shared a reverence for the natural world and the opportunity to learn from her through quiet observation. Like the elk figure that stands alert yet unguarded, this connection asked only that I be fully myself. In that shared stillness, I felt seen. That kind of companionship—rooted in mutual respect, listening, and an ease of being—becomes a shelter, a place to rest.

YOU ARE A RIVER 12 X 18 watercolor

This painting and its title came from a poem that I’d like to share with you:

but darlin

you are a river

the rocks will

break you.

the valleys will bend you,

but you will never stop

because that is what you do.

you flow.

-vinati

“MOOSE” 16 X 16 watercolor

This portrait of my brother’s Labrador, Moose, was my final painting of 2025. He and my sister-in-law lost him just before Christmas. Year after year, Moose helped raise their three children, offering a joyful, steady presence that quietly anchored their family. He lived a full Jackson Hole life, and even after seventeen beautiful years, saying goodbye was no small thing. Everyone believes their dog is the best—and I believe no one is wrong. This painting was my way of holding onto Moose’s ever-present smile and the very big heart behind it.

Thank you for supporting my work this past year—your encouragement, curiosity, and love for art make this journey possible. I’m deeply grateful to share these pieces with you, & for the connection that art brings into our lives.
Wishing you a joyful, inspired, and peaceful 2026. Take Care and stay in touch! -Kathryn