crescent moon art is one person painting the night, for life. Not a career pivot, not a shop with a story bolted on: a standing practice with three evenings a week at the easel, published as it happens, panels, prices, hours, and failures included.
The work is layered mixed media on cradled birch panel: limited palettes mixed and named before the first mark, tide lines poured by hand, glass glitter rationed to a single line, and epoxy resin when a panel has earned its glass. The subjects stay close: the sea after dark, the moon and its weather, the harbor lamps that stay lit.
The site runs on rules because the practice does. Palettes hold three to six colors. The shop opens at forty finished panels and not one sooner. Progress is a heatmap, never a streak. The hazardous crafts unlock on safety, not enthusiasm. Sold panels stay on the site, because the archive is the portfolio.
A panel is carpentry before it is a painting: sealed gesso on cradled birch, a ground laid in one sitting, pours that have to stop moving before the next layer, glitter set while the medium is wet, and at the end, if the room has earned it, a flood of resin.
Why wood panels