Art
This body of work moves across different subjects, coastal landscapes, interiors, and subtle moments in time.
Chairs
A Moment Detached
Oil on canvas, 36 × 48 in.
Two chairs occupy a divided interior, held within the same space yet separated by a quiet distance. One recedes into darkness, softened and partially lost, while the other remains clearly defined against a lighter ground. The division between them is exact, but unresolved.
It considers detachment, how separation can exist within proximity, and how distance can emerge through a loss of clarity.
Removed From It All
Oil on canvas, 30 × 40 in.
In darkness, orientation dissolves.
In Removed From It All, a single chair appears rotated and suspended, untethered from its environment. The space holds the chair in quiet tension, caught between weightlessness and collapse. Light gathers along the chair’s legs in a sharp reflection, while the surrounding form recedes into a soft, atmospheric nocturnal vignette, swallowing it.
It considers the loss of orientation, how shifts in structure, environment, or stability leave us suspended.
Waves and Coast
From the cliffs in California to the rocky coastline of Newport, Rhode Island, I’ve found the fleeting ocean wave to be a practice I return to again and again. The series began as an exercise in small thumbnail drawings — a kind of plein-air adjacent record keeping for myself as I explore the coast.
The subtleties of the break, the spray of the crest, the organic movement created as all of the variables expand and collide together. The waves became a place of letting go quickly. And at the same time, a place to remain still long enough to capture the feeling of them.
Landscape and Trees
My drawings of trees and landscapes come from time spent walking, hiking, or sitting long enough for a place to settle in. Over time, after initially chasing larger vistas, I became less interested in describing the whole scene and more focused on the structure in front of me.
In a series of pen-and-ink drawings of the mountainous landscapes of California — filled with trees larger than life — I found an intimacy in rendering their details. I became patient, focusing on the small despite the scale of the tree in front of me.
It became a practice of moving closer. Of working more tightly. A way of understanding how each small part contributes to the whole.
