Phoenix Rising Collection

72" × 72" • Oil on canvas

Geometry and calm tones suggest a consciousness piecing itself together—clarity emerging from fog. “Awake” was created near the end of the pandemic, during a period when the studio became a place of steady refuge and focus. With more time and fewer external demands, the artist was able to bring a clearer presence to the work—sitting with the materials, the silence, and the internal space that isolation often reveals. The piece carries that shift. It holds more color, more depth, and a sense of searching that grew out of long days alone with the canvas. Moments outdoors—barefoot on the beach, breathing in open air, reconnecting with sunlight and nature—acted as simple grounding rituals between sessions. That rhythm of introspection and quiet renewal shaped the mood of the painting, giving “Awake” a layered, contemplative quality that reflects the time in which it was made.

48" × 60" • Oil on canvas

Bright geometric planes create the sense of a figure in transition—ascending beyond ordinary form. Becoming Supernatural comes from a period when my work was defined by sharp lines, careful precision, and an almost meditative attention to detail. Every panel carries a three-color gradient, shifting from light to dark with deliberate transitions in shadow and highlight. The process demanded patience; sometimes I held my breath not to disturb a line. It was the late phase of the pandemic, and long hours alone in the studio led me deeper into the craft—slowing down, refining edges, and giving each painting more of my time. During this period, I was equally focused on strengthening my inner and outer life. I was training consistently, reading, and working on my own discipline. The solitude shaped me—mind, body, and creative voice. This series became a record of that growth: precise, controlled, and purposeful. Each piece carries the intensity of that season and the clarity that came from being fully immersed in both the work and myself.

40" × 60" • Oil on canvas

Sharp planes and fractured features hold tension between order and collapse—anxious structure barely holding. Part of a series examining identity under pressure—how roles distort us and what breaks through when we stop performing. Contorted Head Composition III” is part of an ongoing series that examines how identity responds to pressure—how roles can bend, compress, or distort us, and what begins to emerge when the performance drops away. The figure’s head carries this tension: loosely painted forms create movement and instability, while sharply refined details anchor the image with precision. The contrast between fluid brushwork and crisp edges gives the piece an organic yet carefully structured presence. It suggests a mind caught between collapse and clarity, navigating the shifting boundaries of self and perception.

42" × 60" • Oil on canvas

A raw, intimate moment captured mid-thought. “The Edit” captures a raw, mid-thought moment—an image of self-revision. The piece explores how we reshape our inner narrative over time, trimming what no longer fits and refining what feels true. During the period when this work was created, the artist was deeply focused on health and well-being, spending long hours in disciplined routines and physical training. That practice of consistency and self-care became another form of editing: letting go of old patterns, strengthening new ones, and noticing how the body and mind respond when aligned with intention.The drawing reflects that process—not a perfected version of self, but an ongoing act of adjustment, presence, and quiet honesty about what is ready to change.

30" × 44" • Acrylic and oil paint on paper

Symbolizes the burning away of outdated versions of self. A second head rises as the new identity begins to emerge. “Burning Man” is part of a small, developing series of four paintings—supported by many smaller drawings—that explores the idea of shedding old layers and moving into a more aligned version of oneself. The work reflects a period of personal transition for the artist, where patterns, relationships, and habits that no longer supported growth were consciously released.Rather than presenting transformation as a final state, the series treats it as an ongoing process: a continual burning away of what no longer fits, and a steady movement toward clarity, purpose, and renewed direction. The imagery becomes a visual metaphor for evolution—how each of us changes over time, and how the old makes space for the new.

22" × 30" • Charcoal and embossing on paper

A study of mental fragmentation—not as collapse, but as restructuring. Shapes and colors forming a mind in transition. Men’s Fracta is one of my most recent oil paintings, created through a free-flowing approach where perfection is not the point. Up close, every brushstroke, drip, and irregular edge is visible—nothing is hidden. Yet from a distance, the composition resolves into something seemingly precise, as if the structure was always intentional. This tension between rawness and cohesion mirrors the inner process the piece explores. This loose, open way of painting has kept my connection to the craft alive. Allowing smudges, drips, and visible strokes has made painting more enjoyable and honest for me. When I let go and follow the energy that moves through the work, the painting becomes less about control and more about expression. Men’s Fracta carries that freedom on its surface.

60" × 72" • Pigment stick and glitter on canvas

A chaotic, vibrant crowd of interlocking faces. Playful and tense, it explores spectacle, identity, and the hunger for attention. The “Don’t Feed the Sculptures” series began with a fractured black-and-white figure created after someone close to the artist survived a serious accident. What started as a response to fragility has since expanded into a full body of 35 works on canvas and paper—most rendered in oil stick and glitter on canvas, with the remaining pieces developed as mixed-media works on paper. In the more recent paintings, the figures appear dressed for an elegant gathering, yet their forms remain composed of shifting, broken shapes. Some bodies seem to separate, others merge, blurring the line between falling apart and coming together. The works suggest a quiet interdependence—how individual fragments can overlap, connect, and even strengthen one another.

18" × 24" • Ink on paper

A dreamy portrait of stillness in motion. The fragmented figure reflects the sweetness of doing nothing while the mind remains active beneath the surface. The “Don’t Feed the Sculptures” series began with a fractured black-and-white figure created after someone close to the artist survived a serious accident. What started as a response to fragility has since expanded into a full body of 35 works on canvas and paper—most rendered in oil stick and glitter on canvas, with the remaining pieces developed as mixed-media works on paper. In the more recent paintings, the figures appear dressed for an elegant gathering, yet their forms remain composed of shifting, broken shapes. Some bodies seem to separate, others merge, blurring the line between falling apart and coming together. The works suggest a quiet interdependence—how individual fragments can overlap, connect, and even strengthen one another.