Portfolio
Below are a few standalone projects, followed by 15 pieces that reflect my body of work.
Click any image for detailed photos and pricing.
“Someone Was Just Here”
8 × 3 feet. Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper. 2026.
This is about the feeling of walking into an empty space where someone just was. There’s still a warmth and lingering energy.
I went in knowing exactly how I wanted to paint the movement of energy, a purely abstract representation. I sat in front of this completed piece a long time when I realized the right also looks like grass/earth. The empty space on the left, with its abberations/lingering energy, moves to the right, underground. The piece also moves right to left: moving from underground into open air. The piece moves back and forth, back and forth. Someone was just there and now they’re underground, someone was just underground and now they’re not. I’m processing death these days and was bowled over by my experience sitting in front of this piece (It’s much different at 8 feet than on a screen). It’s like we know what to give ourselves when we open the channel.
“Story I was Told at the Mountaintop”
9 × 3 feet. Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper. 2026.
I spent many years thinking if I just went to the right person, the right place, the right “sage at the top of the mountain”, I would find the missing piece that would make the world make sense.
I made it to the top of many mountains, and was told a lot of stories. Almost all of them beautiful. All of them a person behind a curtain. I no longer compulsively climb mountains. I learned a lot from the beauty of the stories, and more from climbing the mountains, and most from stopping believing someone else has the answer.
“Strong Dream”
9 × 3 feet. Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper. 2026.
You know when you have that rare, vivid dream, and the mood of it carries with you half the day? Maybe it taught you something, maybe you experienced a new emotion in a situation you have never lived. Maybe it felt like a vision, maybe it didn’t. This is a piece about those consuming dreams.
“Peace and Rumors of Peace”
8 × 3.5 feet. Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper. 2026.
Word soars across the waters.
“One Before the Other”
7 × 3 feet. Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper. 2026.
About prioritizing one people over another.
“Peace and Rumors of Peace”
8 × 3.5 feet. Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper. 2026.
Soaring white and a streak of evergreen, the color of life and eternity.
“2,000 Years From Now”
8 × 3.5 feet. Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper. 2026.
Toni Morrison’s essay “The Future of Time” says that, without dismissing existential issues, we must break up with The End of The World and imagine the future. Her direct words: “We are tentative about articulating a long earthly future; we are cautioned against the luxury of its meditation as a harmful deferral and displacement of contemporary issues.” “Oddly enough it is in the modern West -where advance, progress, and change have been signatory features -where confidence in an enduring future is at its slightest.” “No wonder our imagination stumbles beyond 2030.” “To weigh the future of future requires some powerfully visionary thinking about how the life of the mind can operate in a moral context increasingly dangerous to its health. It will require thinking about the generations to come as life forms at least as important as cathedral-like forests and glistening seals. It will require thinking about generations to come as more than a century or so of one’s own family line, group stability, gender, sex, race, religion. Thinking about how we might respond if certain that our own line would last two thousand, twelve thousand more earthly years.” “It will require thinking about the quality of human life, not just its length. The quality of intelligent life, not just its strategizing abilities. The obligations of moral life, not just its ad hoc capacity for pity.”
A few years ago I took Morrison’s challenge to visualize my line 2,000 years from now. I imagined a girl in a meadow, at peace, with full bodily autonomy, and was surprised at the emotion it brought. For all of the opportunity and comfort of my own life compared to previous generations, I had never allowed myself to imagine this girl. She was too much to hope for. Existential threats are imminent, but how many generations have thought they were the last? Maybe it is honest but human to think that the world will end when I do. I am choosing risk & hope in a better future over the comfort and control of expecting the worst. This piece is the meadow 2,000 years from now where I hope all of our progeny can sit, knowing peace.
“Peace and Rumors of Peace”
7 × 3 feet. Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper. 2026.
Word spreads across the wavelengths.
“Appearance”
9 × 10 inches. 24 karat gold leaf, silver leaf, monotype print, oil pastel, graphite on paper. 2024.
This work is in the private collection of France Tolentino.
“Pale Blue Dot”
3 × 3.5 feet. Acrylic painting on heavyweight paper. 2026.
An abstract take on NASA’s famed photo of Earth from the edge of the solar system. The photograph was proposed by astronomer Carl Sagan, a philosophical reminder of our planet's fragility and our shared responsibility to care for it. Can you spot the pale blue dot?
“Pale Blue Dot”
20 × 20 inches. Monotype print, oil pastel, graphite on paper, 2024.
An abstract take on NASA’s famed photo of Earth from the edge of the solar system. The photograph was proposed by astronomer Carl Sagan, a philosophical reminder of our planet's fragility and our shared responsibility to care for it. Can you spot the pale blue dot?
This work is in the private collection of Erin Johnson.
“Grief and Hope”
19 × 26 inches. Monotype print, oil pastel, graphite on paper. 2023.
This work is in the private collection of Danita Pappas.
“Thin Place (Funeral)”
19 x 26 inches. Monotype print, oil pastel, acrylic, graphite on paper, 2025.
An extension on the theme of Celtic “thin places”, where the veil between realms is thin, combined with the memory of a large funeral gathering.
“Prophecy”
10 × 12 inches. Monotype print, oil pastel, graphite on paper. 2024.
Where the ancient and the future meet. The fresh, young green shoots off the page, into the unknown.
“Grand Central Station Ceiling”
20 × 30 inches. 24 karat gold leaf, oil pastel, graphite on handmade paper. 2024.
An abstract take on New York’s favorite ceiling. The gateway between the city and the Hudson Valley.
This work is in the private collection of Angelique Nicolai.
