Nefertiti, whose name means "a beautiful woman has come," was the queen of Egypt and wife of Pharaoh Akhenaten during the 14th century B.C. She and her husband established the cult of Aten, the sun god, and promoted Egyptian artwork that was radically different from its predecessors.
This queen is the inspiration of the piece.
A Beautiful Woman Has Come
acrylic, charcoal, ink on canvas | 30”x50”
40”x40” | acrylic + watercolor on cardboard
acrylic, glitter, oil on petrified cardboard | 27.5” x 28”
The Annunciation has been a frequent subject of art. Classical scenes depicting the Annunciation represent the perpetual virginity of Mary via the announcement by the angel Gabriel that Mary would have a virgin birth. In my interpretation of The Annunciation, I give Mary the angel wings (and grit) symbolizing a redistribution of power and narrative. I’m cutting out the middle man, literally. Rather than her fate relayed to her by a patriarchal deity in an attempt to hide her sexuality, she remains in charge of her destiny.
acrylic, charcoal + ink on canvas
Pisac - a small town outside of Cusco, Peru where Grandmother ceremonies are held.
acrylic on canvas | 16”x16”
An “impolite arrogant woman” is how Trump’s White House Chief of Staff John F. Kelly described Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.) in the days following the Trump administration’s 2017 travel ban, according to emails obtained by BuzzFeed under the Freedom of Information Act. This piece is Inspired by Sen. Elizabeth Warren’s ability to turn that insult into a rallying cry.
This series was completed for client Blue Ocean, a real estate firm located in northwest Baltimore. The paintings were a part of a collaborative project with PS Design, one of Baltimore’s premier interior designers. They hang in an executive office suit at 201 N. Charles, a historic high-rise located in downtown Baltimore.
Blue Ocean - Rainbow
acrylic on canvas | 16”x20”
Blue Ocean - Kaleidoscope
acrylic on canvas | 36”x40”
Blue Ocean - Swirl
acrylic on canvas | 25”x25”
acrylic, glow-in-dark paint on wood | 18” x 18”
acrylic on canvas | 24”x36”
The Boy With Wings was the name of a short story I wrote when I was 17 years-young. The protagonist in the story was a 12 year-old boy named Adam and he had wings.
This piece was auctioned at “Dear Mama: A Fundraiser for Annie / Vanniety Kills.” Annie Nguyen, aka Vanniety Kills has been a pillar in the D.C. underground house music scene. Due to a serious brain injury, her life was turned upside down. In addition to being unable to work, she was required to give up her passion - dj’ing. The fundraiser was organized by Annie’s close friends to raise money to support Annie’s living and medical expenses.
acrylic on canvas | 25”x44”
This piece was inspired by my trip to the Sacred Valley in Peru, where I Iearned about the revered goddess of the Andes people – Pachamama. She is Mother Earth and a bridge from our modern antics to our indigenous roots. She is Life and life-giving.
This piece, in addition to Dancing Queen was auctioned at “Dear Mama: A Fundraiser for Annie / Vanniety Kills.” Annie Nguyen, aka Vanniety Kills has been a pillar in the D.C. underground house music scene. Due to a serious brain injury, her life was turned upside down. In addition to being unable to work, she was required to give up her passion - dj’ing. The fundraiser was organized by Annie’s close friends to raise money to support Annie’s living and medical expenses.
SOLD at the 2018 Under $500 Maryland Art Place exhibition
In 2013, I toyed with the idea that love was a silly, if not farcical misreading of something purely chemical. Perhaps just a trite rite of passage, perhaps just a dark time, regardless - my belief in the universal force of love was momentarily suspended and I saw it as mere projection, an intangible that was only there for people to flaunt when that had it good. In December of that year I wrote:
I used to be a sweetheart. I downgraded from sweetie-status somewhere between my acquired taste for scotch, and pawning my wedding china for $150 to a newly wed couple from the trunk of my car. … Some days I wish I could hide these experiences like ghosts in a closet, like my wedding dress – crumpled and smushed into a ball, inside a garment bag, stuffed behind the box filled with yearbooks, Beanie Babies, old school notebooks and other relics of an innocent bygone era. The harder I try to hide these ghosts, the more they pop up at unexpected times, in the shape of a loneliness that I think anyone might recognize, the kind that cripples you with a fear that you’ve been rendered sweet-less.”
This piece is an ode to 2013, and those years when we can’t quite remember love. And to our human ability to find love, even when we thought it was gone for good.