The Moment Before

The Moment Before – SB Pohlman – 2026

It was a thick, humid night in Philadelphia late in the aughts.  One of the nights that doesn’t seem to give an inch of relief even at 2 am.  I was biking back home along the Schuylkill River from South Philly – a 40 minute ride in the dark when the bike path was gloriously free of pedestrians.  As I turned the corner and approached the fountain, shimmering like a mirage, I had no choice but to drop my bike and jump into the cerulean water, clothes and all.  It was hands-down one of the most refreshing swims of my life, the Nymph Holding a Bittern statue gazing down at me.  It was a glorious, pinnacle moment, just before the night took a turn, and I flew over the handlebars of my bike onto the pavement.  

I lived. There was an ambulance ride I didn’t want to take.  A pool of blood on the concrete. My head was stapled and concussed.  But I often wonder, if I hadn’t taken that moment to swim in the fountain, would I have biked home safely?  Life often seems to shake me up a bit when I’m having too much fun. Like a reminder not to get too comfortable. A gentle reprimand from the Nymph to stay out of her pristine waters? Or an arbitrary twist of fate.  If given that moment back, I would spend longer in the fountain.  And perhaps, I’d wear a helmet when I got back on my bike.

Special thanks to Jenny and Gia for asking me to tell my “stories.” I don’t think I would have recalled the memory that inspired this painting if they hadn’t kept prompting me and encouraging me to share the tea. This was a blast to research and paint. More info on the fountain can be found at: https://www.schuylkillbanks.org/blog/allegory-schuylkill-river-water-nymph-and-bittern 

The Moment Before
Acrylic on Canvas
40 x 30 in
7/2026
$1200

National Arts Program Art Exhibit

My gouache and watercolor painting “Sent From a Tin Can and a Tangled Piece of String” is part of the National Arts Program Art Exhibit at Delaware State University this month. I was honored to receive a ribbon for fantasy art at the reception. The show is on display through March 20.

New Work

Reverence – January 2026 – Acrylic on canvas – 18 x 24 in

My artwork is an ongoing reflection on a central question: what does it mean to be human—how strange it is to be anything at all. I am continually amazed, perplexed, troubled, and fascinated by the world I observe each day. These moments of wonder and uncertainty fuel my desire to understand both myself and others within the broader context of existence.

People have always interested me, not only as individuals, but as interconnected beings shaped by shared experiences and environments. Through my work, I visually explore the universal connections we share and consider humanity’s place within the natural world. I am especially drawn to moments where the external landscape mirrors internal states of reflection, awe, and searching.

This painting specifically reflects the awe inspired by nature and the authenticity of direct experience within it. The monumental rock formations evoke endurance, time, and presence, while the mandala-like patterns suggest an unseen spiritual dimension woven into the natural world. Together, these elements speak to nature as both a physical and spiritual space—one that invites stillness, reverence, and contemplation. Through this work, I aim to honor the quiet power of nature and its ability to connect us to something larger than ourselves.

Red Rocks Works

The rock formations in Colorado spoke to me earlier last summer. 65 million years old – you can feel that presence. I’ve been playing around with materials to see what resonates. And experimenting with ways to layer interpretations of ocular auras along with them.

Ocular auras are an unexplained phenomenon associated with migraines. They present differently for each individual, but for me they appear as wavering crescent rainbows in my peripheral vision. They last for 10-15 minutes. Like catching a meteor shower, I literally have to stop whatever I am doing – teaching, eating brunch with my kids, hiking – and quietly witness the aural rainbows until they pass. Take a moment to meditate upon these pieces – be present.

Mind the Rattlesnakes
Mixed Media Paper on Canvas
15 x 30
2025

Sent From a Tin Can and a Tangled Piece of String

Sent From a Tin Can and a Tangled Piece of String
Watercolor and Gouache on Paper
20 x 20 inches framed
March 2025
$650

This painting is filled with bits and pieces of inspiration from my trip to the Pacific Northwest last summer and a healthy dose of childhood nostalgia. As a child, I had asked my parents if we could go on a family vacation to the Olympic Peninsula for my 16th birthday. Although the request was denied, I was able to hold onto that idea and manifest it into existence 25 years later. I wish my 16 year old self had known that there was a reason.

Paper Airplane Post

I’ve been working on a new mixed-media collage that juxtaposes the innocence and nostalgia of childhood with the panic and seemingly impending doom of the present culture in the US. Dark clouds form on the horizon of this golden landscape. Does the final paper airplane make it through or get stuck amongst the tree-branches?

Paper Planes Don’t Leave Chemtrails
16 x 16 in mixed media on paper

Twist of Fate

A twist of fate landed us unexpectedly at Sperlak Gallery and Sculpture Garden on our way home from the beach. It was enchanting!

My art is typically very colorful, but the lighting when we visited paired well with black and white photo. I was inspired to make a quick painting when we got back to weave those lively colors back in.

Art + nature + a little mystery. If you ever find yourself in South Jersey, it’s a gem.

Springtime Goddesses

I’m sharing a few process photos for a mixed media piece – there are so many layers that go into each work of art! “The ability to look deeply is the root of creativity. To see past the ordinary and mundane and get to what might otherwise be invisible.” – Rick Rubin

Springtime Goddesses
June 2024 – Mixed Media on Paper – 16 x 16 in / 20 x 20 in framed

Peripheral Vision

I love every part of the creative process, but there is nothing more satisfying than hearing that voice telling you a piece is done. It’s not a literal voice, but some kind of cosmic knowing…that after all of the work, bursts of energy, tinkering, questioning, and magic…it’s reached it’s full potential. It is exactly what it was meant to be.

Peripheral Vision
Mixed Media
11 x 15 in
2022