Circle Back Studios

opa! a stamp in time ✨

Huge shout out to both curatorial teams between .newyork & - never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d hit gallery walls, more or less two, 1000 miles apart within the same week. Universe, you are rad.
🥲

&&& of course; my homies, my family. 🥹
You make it real. Always calming my nerves..moments of doubt. I love you.

Little clouds of high life for ya girl this week
- but we as always, are just getting started.
We have the moon to chase.

Boots on!
Andiamo -

Thank you,
Laine 🧡

She Is Art.

Mini blooms. Her quiet-loud-little-big energy.
She is Art.
You have to look.
Find it in her, she ain’t gon’ shout.

She is Art.
She is Art.
She is Art.

Gap in the Synapse.

Ya.. ya. the space between the space.

*Idk, you know?*

I’ve noticed whenever I’m going through deep thoughts around a decision, or sitting with reflections that flow beyond the narrative of “finding the beauty” ..these faces come out. Not ready for the sum of it.

I want so badly to back the beauty, but yet? I just can’t get past the up-down thoughts. Like, I have to think 1000 times first before the positive-negative feeling is felt.

Even the biggest of joys or the deepest of grief, there is the back half of the story (which is IMO, is beautiful) Yet.. there is this blank limbo, a numbness inbetween the tears and cries — the smiles and butterflies.

A delayed reaction or just data collection?
I can’t explain it.
So here, I just paint it.

-Laine
🧡

Let’s grow old and be vintage.

For all the places you plant and root.
It’s those real humans that breeze in.
& now? You grow fruit.

Gardens gardens gardens.

Magenta, I left the Gold for you.

- an ocean of tears too.

🩷

Sorry Valentine, I am already mine.

Artists have created museums trying to define it.
& we keep doing it.

So here is my take.
It is authenticity immersed within the chemistry from the soul.
Each individual living creature.

It starts from you.
Saying yes & no.
Following the light felt from head to toe.
Be the belly butterflies or shared cries.
From smile lines, to the skies.

Let it be true -

If an artist falls in love with you,
you will never die.

-
New stuff. New season.
Hearts on sleeve -

Laine 🧡

Nyx at the Floralia ✨

The goddess of Night. The ancient floral festival.
Old… an origin.
An energy.

…of blooms in this dark room.

—
For the roots.

-Laine

Where the Green Meets the Dawn ✨

Two of my favorite humans have a lil bun in tow! 🧡
Whenever I think about how the silly stars align, Bridget & Jessie come to mind.

Something incredibly special watching this love bloom where we grew up as kids, to then reconnect as adults in North Carolina just by chance. Memories to fill a book.

BIG BIG love for you both — & cheers to lil babe in bloom!

I love you so much.
🤍🧡🩷

Clouds Remember Color ✨

The brush won’t speak, the sky won’t sing,
just a shush, some haze and everything
I meant to say but couldn’t find—
What is in my mind.

But even still, above the grey,
The clouds recall a better day.

-
Overstimulated. Ha. A mudslide transition.
Double ha. But that’s what it’s felt like.
A cloud.
Keep on keepin’ on, with all I got.
Quick on my feet and adjusting fast, only to know.. it’s still a lot.

The last panel of The Blank Space..
A tribute to creating through the chaos.
& May that darn pilot light never burn out.

Thank you 🧡

Dear Rosa ✨

Hibiscus. Rosa Hibiscus. My favorite flower.
Short, bold blooms you’ll remember.

Talking about ourselves is not selfish, but it does open us up for judgement. Especially the passionate ones, who find themselves in a puddle of excitement by niche things and flicks of detail. Commonly “ too much ” for most.

As much as I love a big party, you’ll find me dancing to the music or making the food. I’m social; yes, but I prefer to talk 1:1. I’m immediately uncomfortable at spotlight attention and I’m pretty bad at jokes.
Even though I probably have a lot to say.
It doesn’t make sense to me either.
The irony of Laine.

Creation is the spirit call.

Two weeks left, over at !!

Thank you 🧡

Now, She Retreats ✨

w/ statements


Lake Lotus. Ouiii. My first weekend moving back to the Midwest, I headed to Wisconsin and found Lotus Flowers, early morning while paddling on a lake.

In the Language of Flowers, the lotus carries the weight of rebirth, a new. Calling all yours previous lives, forward.

“She rises through shadowed water, untouched, luminous. I watched her move with the moon—opening in soft defiance, then folding inward, remembering that: purpose of intent is best served patiently and timely.”

This piece holds that rhythm: Enough there to question, but with space and grace.. returning to stillness.

Up & for sale over !

Thank you
🧡