Kathryn Lynch paints like a poet, evoking emotion through eloquent imagery. On long walks through her New York neighborhood, she lets life whirl around her, a kinetic routine punctuated by perception. Certain scenes settle in her unconscious and resurface inside her studio as sketches: A tree-lined street laced with electric lines, cherry blossoms in peak blush, a ship docking. Snapshots taken by her intuition. As paintings, these moments in time feel vague yet familiar, more suggestion than specific. Lynch has cultivated a beauty of process and place. Working up a sketch, she waits until the scene feels right, then turns to her easel and oils. She paints one piece at a time, focusing her attention on that lone, elastic moment. Ruminating as she does, themes tend to emerge in each body of work. Shifting Scenes finds Lynch intuitively fascinated with seasons and interiors. Whether looking in or out a window, the peering eye takes on profundity by her hand. “The architectural frames what we can and cannot see,” Lynch said, just as the body contains what we experience. Place and person as portals.