With her haunting gaze and otherworldly poise, Miss Flora embodies the strange tenderness that defines Travis Louie’s universe—a place where the odd is not only accepted but revered. Louie draws deeply from Victorian portraiture, early photography, and the mythology of circus sideshows to conjure characters that feel at once historical and imagined.

Rendered in precise black and white acrylic, Miss Flora is both a portrait and a storybook apparition. Her attire appears to bloom organically from her form, resembling a cross between a flower and a ceremonial garment. Freckles dapple her translucent skin, enhancing her surreal but human quality. There is a quietness to the image, a sense of a life lived in whispered tales and forgotten diaries.

Louie’s world is filled with creatures who do not belong—yet in their displacement, they reveal deeper truths about identity, beauty, and imagination. 

In Louie’s hands, the fantastical becomes intimate, and the past is never quite what it seems. Miss Flora is not merely a portrait—she is a memory from a place that never existed, but somehow always has.