Adrienne Wannamaker doesn’t just paint what she sees—she paints what most miss: the shapes of our world. Curves, cracks, and contours become layered landscapes only her brush can tell. From ancient arches and Roman alleyways to steel beams against the sky, forms speak to her in a language of design and possibility. A Portland native, Adrienne discovered this fluency while studying abroad in Italy in the 1980s, where sunlit courtyards and weathered frescoes shaped her eye—and maybe her Italian. That spark ignited a lifelong dialogue with built and natural environments: the cliffs of the Amalfi Coast where she married, quiet corners of the South of France, the symmetry of salt flats or hay bales seen from above. For Adrienne, travel is both adventure and study, each place offering a new palette of forms. Now based in Scottsdale, she layers these impressions onto wood panels. Acrylic builds in 20–30 translucent and opaque layers, beginning with crackled textures and ending in a luminous resin pour. Shapes emerge and retreat, guided more by instinct than formula. Her work resists translation through photos—you have to get close. Each layer reveals new secrets, subtle shifts, and unexpected depth. What she creates isn’t just meant to be seen—it’s meant to be felt, and shared face-to-face with those drawn into her story.