Miriam Traher Abstract Artist

I’m not fixing myself. I’m stepping into what’s already here and letting it shine louder.
I’m not entirely sure what that looks like yet, but it feels like circling back in order to move forward. Saying yes to all the things I once said I wasn’t, trying them on, and seeing what more there is for me. I always said I wasn’t a floral painter… and well, that seems not to be the case.
Forsythia is my first favourite spring flower… well, until the next ones bloom. I’ve been thinking about why I love these early blooms so much, and I think it’s this… they carry the whole winter inside them. All that cold, all that buried time, and still they show up bright and certain. Without the snow and the cold, they don’t bloom like this… maybe not at all. Funny how that works.
So while the world feels like it’s spinning a little wildly out there, I’m choosing my own kind of unknown. Trying new things, leaning deeper into my materials (thank you .studio for the nudge), and paying attention to what’s pulling me in. Right now, there’s something about paper that has me curious. We’ll see. I have until Sunday to decide.
So here’s to Canadian winters, bright spring flowers, and change. To everything that felt buried and still found a way to bloom.
And maybe it’s not about growing up and leaving that 8-year-old girl behind. Maybe it’s about taking her hand, bringing her forward, and showing her just how bright things can get.



contemporary abstract art, canadian artist, abstract floral painting, expressive and intuitive work, original art for collectors and designers, bold colour, spring florals, statement artwork for modern interiors

The collection has been created, the email blast gone out and I am happy to say a burst of pure joy has found its new home.

A Moment Worth Sharing
12”x12”
We spend so much time rehearsing for the big things
that we forget the small ones are already doing the heavy lifting.

Flowers don’t wait for permission.
They don’t ask if they’re too loud, or too much, or too pink.
They are just… generous.
A quiet riot of spirit,
offering up everything they have
simply because it’s time.

This piece is for the reach.

Not the reaching for “more,”
but the reaching out—
to the person beside you,
to the memory that just caught your breath,
to the version of yourself you almost forgot to invite along.

It’s about the shift from keeping to connecting.

Because isn’t that where the aliveness is?
In the uneven petals and the neon bursts
that remind us:
the best moments aren’t meant to be held.
They are meant to be shared.