I Cast a Spell

Laura Burke’s jewel-toned paintings shimmer with dreamlike intensity, collapsing the boundaries between interior and exterior worlds. With intuitive arrangements that feel both domestic and fantastical, Burke conjures scenes where floral blooms press against windowpanes and fruit-laden tables dissolve into lush, surreal landscapes. Her compositions unfold like visual poems—quietly uncanny, rich in color, and laden with symbolic tension.

In Burke’s world, the home is not a container but a portal: walls breathe, objects glow, and the still life becomes anything but still. Botanical forms creep in through curtains or rise from the floor, while vessels and vases blur into terrain. This porousness—between inside and out, real and imagined—offers a meditation on permeability itself: how we absorb the world, how memory and nature root themselves in our daily surroundings. Through her alchemical use of color and enigmatic forms, Burke invites the viewer into a space where perception softens, and the familiar becomes mysteriously alive.