My work begins with observation—of place, time, and the shifting boundaries between perception and memory. Rooted in painting, photography, and printmaking, my practice explores how visual language can translate lived experience, particularly in relation to the passage of time and the environments I move through. I’m drawn to subtle color shifts, the rhythm of mark-making, and quiet moments that demand further articulation.
My technical discipline as a painter has allowed me to traverse a wide range of subject matter—from a street corner littered with graffiti to a quiet, intimate interior. Often, the more unsuspecting the better. I’m interested in the overlooked: rust, corrosion, and wear that erode our preconceived ideals of perfection, revealing the poetry of impermanence—a metaphor for life itself. Regardless of the subject, I search for recurring visual systems: signs, marks, geometry, and patterns. These are the rhythms that speak to how we live and move through the world. After all, inhabitation doesn’t always require a figure to suggest human presence.
I use painting to embrace a vision in higher psychological definition—an emotional attachment to the fragility of a moment and its mark in time. Like analyzing a note in a musical score, I ask: is it staccato or legato? Are the colors warm or cool? Is the edge sharp or blurred? These formal decisions aren’t just aesthetic—they are emotional cues.
Much of my work exists in the tension between presence and distraction. After spending the past decade working full-time within New York City’s art industry, I’ve developed a deep appreciation not only for the fleeting nature of the moments I aim to render, but also for the rarity of sustained, focused studio time. That scarcity has reshaped my process—making each session a gift, each step more deliberate. I find myself leaning toward more series-based work, where ideas are explored over time and across multiple pieces.
Whether working en plein air or from digitally altered photographs, my process is intuitive. I often begin with a specific place or moment, then allow the image to shift and evolve into something more speculative. I’m interested in how a painting can hold both clarity and ambiguity—how it can function as both document and dream, a window into the subconscious. Ultimately, the work aims to mark specific points in time, inviting a slower, more contemplative kind of looking—one that acknowledges both the seen and the unseen.