I am haunted by my inability to meet every person who ever lived, and confounded by the insecurities that keep me from approaching one today. My paintings begin as a broad meditation on humanity and its role on this planet and eventually turn inward to my own short, insignificant scene.

I often think about adversaries and the tropes that we have designed in order to point a finger at the oddities that we catalog the Other by, through Art and through memory, and how those memories and ideas change over time.

I am interested in paintings that resist looking mechanical within a digital world. I want imperfection, which echos the way humans have recorded stories throughout time.  

My painting practice is rooted in figuration, but I approach the figure not as a fixed subject but as a shifting presence. I am interested in the emotional and psychological space that can emerge when the human form is partially suggested, fragmented, or embedded within a more ambiguous environment. Over time, this approach has opened up a flexible visual language that allows for both specificity and uncertainty.

Recently, I have been exploring the still life as an extension of this interest in perceptual experience and constructed spaces. While traditionally associated with quiet observation, I treat still life as a generative framework, as a way to investigate composition, objecthood, and the interplay between stability and disruption. I use sprinkler systems in New York City as a vehicle to observe decay and change, an ironic observation for non-organic subject matter.

Formally, I work primarily in oil, drawn to its slow-drying properties, depth of color, and responsiveness to manipulation. My process is iterative and layered: I often begin with reference photos and loose compositional studies, then move into the canvas with a combination of intentional structure and improvisation. I build up surfaces gradually, allowing earlier marks, mistakes, or gestures to remain partially visible, creating a sense of temporal depth. This layering speaks to my interest in the passage of time, not just in the narrative sense, but in the material history of the painting itself.

Contrast is important in my paintings, where areas of opacity and transparency, density and air, coexist in tension. I see this tension as central to my work visually reflecting the ambiguity of perception and the emotional charge that can arise when familiar forms become strange or unstable.

I think of painting as a space of searching. My aim is not to illustrate a singular narrative, but to create visual experiences that allow for slowness, ambiguity, and emotional resonance. Whether working with the figure or with still life, I’m interested in what emerges when attention, memory, and material collide, when the seen and the felt begin to overlap.

So I take stock of what I see, with tools that have been around for millennia, in order to make some sort of sense of it.