The Garden That Kept Changing Its Girl. Poetic Palette: Mossglass Green, Coral Blossom Rain, Dusty Bluebell Cloth, Wildflower Honey, Fox-Fur Silver, Cream Petal Light, Forest Shade. A highly atmospheric, handmade mixed-media storytelling collage on raw gessoed canvas, messy and overgrown, not a tidy grid. Kindred young women of one garden-soul recur and overlap through too many rooms at once, dark loose hair, pale gold hair, rose-washed hair, faces shifting as if the afternoon could not decide which version of her to keep. Her dreamy, gorgeous eyes are visible in several scenes, not all closed: one figure on the wooden chair meets us with a mesmerizing, intimate gaze, cheek resting in her hand, pupils clear and luminous; another looks down with soft open eyes at the white rabbit held to her chest; another with a loose peach-rose crown gazes quietly, lovingly into the face of the small grey fox; a further figure glances toward us from the meadow’s edge, eyes half-lidded but awake. Other rooms may keep their closed-eyed sleep so the collage still has breath and rest. Scenes refuse their borders and stain one another: she sits on a wooden chair in a sheer moss-green dress embroidered with living flowers against a wall that is already a wet painting of coral and teal blooms; she leans asleep against a dark tree trunk in a dusty bluebell dress while coral blossom-rain dissolves her skirt into the grass; she stands waist-deep in wildflowers holding a white rabbit; she lies in the meadow with eyes closed, pale blue dress becoming the field, a black-and-white rabbit tucked against her hip; she holds a small grey fox in a green wood; she reclines in a pastel-smeared dress of pink, yellow and river-blue with two white foxes sleeping against her, hair lit coral by the late sun. E