Hi, I'm sara

I’m a Texas-born and raised artist based in Austin, painting the region’s rugged landscapes where native flora, memory, and movement unfold through layered, intuitive mark-making.
Now accepting commissions.
For 2026 inquiries, please email saracurriewolfe@gmail.com

About The works
How do we hold onto what continues, while grieving what is lost?
In a moment that feels increasingly digital, polished, and frictionless, I find myself drawn to the opposite: texture, slowness, and imperfection.
This pull is what leads me back to the natural forms that have marked my life.
These pieces draw from native Texas plants and wildflowers, the kinds I grew up with, the ones that marked specific seasons, and those I chose to surround myself with again at my wedding. Now, these same wildflowers surround my home in the Texas Hill Country, continuing to root me in place.
The changing of seasons and the appearance of these familiar flowers have been a constant drumbeat throughout my life, a quiet reassurance that some things continue, returning with a steadiness that grounds me.
What shows up here is less about documenting these plants and more about what lingers, the color, shape, and feeling they leave behind, and the way these elements hold experience in the body.
Each piece moves between observation and abstraction, allowing forms to shift and simplify as compositions develop through layering, removal, and reworking. Some areas remain open and breathable, while others build density through repeated marks, creating a balance between control and release.
Certain elements are placed with intention, while others emerge instinctively. Lines vary in clarity and pressure, allowing the presence of the hand to remain visible throughout the work.
Made with watercolor and acrylic, these works are built up and broken down, layered and adjusted, but never fully resolved. Drips, pigment shifts, and uneven edges are left intact, allowing the surface to hold its own history.
At its core, my work is a pull toward the tangible, toward what can be held, seen up close, and made by hand, an insistence on the human presence in a world that often moves away from it.












