Cascade revealed itself whole — motion already made art.
When I painted Cascade in acrylic, I was caught off guard by how much it gave back. It was alive before I even thought to translate it. The movement, the weight of color, the current that ran through it — all of it already complete.
In the digital studio, I tried to push, to heighten, to reinvent. But each attempt felt like intrusion, as if the piece was resisting me. For the first time, I understood that translation isn’t always about adding. Sometimes it’s about stepping back, letting what exists breathe on its own.
What emerged wasn’t a replacement but a resonance — the digital became a way of listening, of honoring what the acrylic had already set in motion.
Cascade reminded me: reverence can be as creative as rebellion.
Translation isn’t always a takeover, but an echo —
one medium amplifying the other.
The flood subsides, but the game is not yet over.
Continue to Endgame →
Beth Poe | Free Form 