ARTIST STATEMENT

I Paint What Haunts Me—And What Heals Me.

I don’t paint to decorate walls—I paint because I am on a mission. It’s an unexplainable daily ache. A fire and a beautiful need. Because some things can’t be said any other way. The brush doesn’t ask for permission. The canvas doesn’t wait for me to be ready. I show up raw, honest, and a little wrecked sometimes—and the work comes out of that.

These pieces are built from layers of chaos and calm, ink and instinct, oil and obsession. They hold my fingerprints, my moods, my history. I pour the truth into them—even the parts that shake, even the parts I don’t want to look at. I work the atrocities into elegance, and vice versa.

You won’t always find perfection here. You’ll find stories, sometimes unfinished and ongoing. You’ll find fragments of memory, an event, twisted beauty, color that fights back, materials that weave through the soul, and figures that might’ve emerged from dreams.

I show up every day to the studio like it’s a prayer or a fight—sometimes both. These pieces carry everything: my sexuality, my sobriety, my joy, my grief, the ghosts I’ve met, and the parts of myself I’m still trying to understand—both ugly and beautiful. And once they leave me, they find new meaning in the homes and lives of collectors. That’s the most powerful part—when someone tells me, “This piece belongs to me.”

But here’s the truth: I will never be a one-trick pony. I’m not here to play it safe or lock into a formula because it sells. I paint to grow. To push. To evolve. That is the work. That is my brand. My style and the materials I use will shift because I shift. Because that’s what staying alive through art really means: not repeating, but transforming.

So no, you won’t see every painting look the same. You’ll see me. In motion. In process. In truth.

And if a piece hits you in the chest—if it whispers something only you can hear—maybe it was meant for you all along. Trust that.