Tiny Boats is a meditation on fragility and navigation—on how we carry what we can across unknown waters. The piece began with a sense of drift, a question about how we hold steady when the world feels weightless beneath us.

A field of bright lime green forms the open expanse—an imagined sea or sky—interrupted by flickers of red-orange and anchored by a low, horizontal band of warmth. These gestures are made entirely with knives, creating texture that moves from gentle haze to sharp incision. Within the green, faint linear symbols appear almost by accident—like memories surfacing or language half-forgotten. They don’t demand to be read, but they’re there, quiet and persistent.
This painting isn't about clarity. It’s about sensing your way forward. The little marks might be boats. Or prayers. Or signals. I don’t know. I just know they’re trying to get somewhere.

Tiny Boats asks: What do you send out when you’re not sure what will return?
-Cait.Jewell