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OUT OF THE BLUE
Paintings that didn't wait for a collection. The ones that arrived on their own, in their own time.
Dreaming in Color.
I’ve been dreaming since I was a little girl. I was always the kind of child who could fall asleep and wake up having lived a whole other life in the space of a few hours. Long stories, full casts of characters and entire worlds that felt more real than the room I opened my eyes to. Most creatives I know carry some version of this. An imagination that doesn’t clock out just because the lights are off.
But occasionally, a dream hands me something I can’t shake loose come morning. That’s what happened with Quailla Rogers, the little girl that was the center of my dream.
She came to me fully formed, in a dream set somewhere in the distant past and with a kind of haunting stillness you only find in old photographs.
The dream unfolded like a story, complete with its own mysteries I still haven’t solved yet. But it was Quailla herself who stayed with me. A little girl, solemn and knowing, who looked at me the way characters sometimes do when they’ve decided you’re the one who’s going to tell their story whether you’re ready or not. She had three blue quail eggs in her hand and eyes that could see right to my soul.
I woke up and just couldn’t let her go. So, months later, I started sketching. The eyes were the most important part because it was how she communicated with me. When she looked at me in the dream, I instantly heard what she was thinking.
I don’t know all of Quailla’s story yet. I’m not sure I’m meant to, not all at once. But I have a feeling this won’t be the last time she visits me.