I’m Laura!
I’m a mixed media artist and surface designer based in the San Francisco Bay Area, inspired by nature, memory, and the beauty of imperfection. My work weaves together texture, layered marks, and organic forms to tell quiet, soulful stories. Through both paintings and surface patterns, I explore what’s hidden, weathered, and real—bringing a Wabi Sabi sensibility to fine art and everyday design.
Horizon explores the shifting boundaries between what we know and what we don’t—past and future, memory and reality, dreaming and waking. The horizon appears to be a fixed line, yet it is always changing depending on where we stand and how we see it. These mixed-media works reflect that space in between: layered, imperfect, and continually evolving.
Horizon
NEW MIXED MEDIA COLLECTION · 2026
Currently on view at Walnut Creek City Hall · September–December 2026
Malibu, Then reflects on the way a place can live in memory long after the moment itself has passed. Layers of blue, texture, and subtle marks suggest sea and sky, while fragments beneath the surface hint at memories that shift and soften over time.
Searching for Nothingness explores that quiet space between thought and stillness—when the familiar begins to dissolve and something less defined starts to emerge. Layers of color, texture, marks, and partially obscured forms reflect the process of letting go of what we think we know and becoming open to what might be beyond it.
Holding a Vision reflects on the quiet act of keeping something in sight—even when the path isn’t clear. Layers of color, pattern, and organic marks suggest possibility, focus, and the courage to stay with what we imagine as it slowly takes form.
Back Then explores the way fragments of the past surface unexpectedly—through color, pattern, texture, and half-remembered moments. Layered marks and partially obscured forms suggest memories that shift over time, revealing some things while allowing others to fade.
Coming Into Focus explores the moment when something begins to emerge from uncertainty. Energetic layers of turquoise, blue, pattern, and gestural marks rise above a quieter field, suggesting thoughts and possibilities slowly becoming clearer.
Malibu, Then reflects on the way a place can live in memory long after the moment itself has passed. Layers of blue, texture, and subtle marks suggest sea and sky, while fragments beneath the surface hint at memories that shift and soften over time.
Why This, Again? reflects on the patterns we find ourselves returning to—the thoughts, habits, and stories that seem to circle back no matter how much we’ve changed. Layers of marks and partially hidden forms suggest repetition, while the open space hints at the possibility of seeing an old pattern differently.
A Familiar Pattern explores the shapes and rhythms we return to again and again—sometimes without even realizing it. Repeated arcs, circles, and layered marks create a sense of recognition, while subtle shifts suggest that even familiar patterns can change when we see them from a new perspective.
Waiting for Clarity reflects that suspended moment when the answer hasn’t quite arrived. Layers of blue, softened marks, and partially obscured forms suggest thoughts slowly settling into focus—a reminder that sometimes clarity comes not from searching harder, but from allowing space for it to emerge.
Almost Remembered explores the elusive nature of memory—the feeling of something familiar hovering just beyond reach. Layers of marks, texture, and partially obscured forms suggest fragments that surface, disappear, and shift as we try to recall them.
Memory of My Grandmother’s Garden is inspired by the way childhood memories return in fragments—color, shape, texture, and feeling rather than a perfect picture. Layers of pink and softened marks suggest something familiar but not entirely clear, like a place remembered through time.
What Comes Next explores that moment between what has been and what hasn’t yet taken shape. Layers of color, pattern, and imperfect marks suggest movement and possibility—a reminder that we don’t always need to know what comes next to keep moving forward.
That Weekend in Faro holds the feeling of a memory rather than the details of a place. Layers of sun-washed yellow, turquoise, coral, and repeated marks suggest fragments of color, light, and experience—the way a trip can linger long after the specifics begin to fade.
On the Drive Home captures that quiet, in-between state when the landscape passes by and the mind begins to wander. Layers of soft blue, fragmented marks, and gestural lines drift above a deep horizon, suggesting memories and thoughts surfacing without quite taking form.
Between Sleep and Waking explores that hazy threshold where thoughts, memories, and dreams overlap. A quiet, pale field meets an intense expanse of orange, creating a horizon between two states—one fading away as another begins to emerge.
