Artwork

August 14, 2025

I was getting fatigued from painting too many large paintings, so I had to switch it up. Took advantage of that by trying several new things at once. The first is testing out watercolor ground on a canvas panel (and sanding it smooth). The next new thing was to use the grisaille technique and glaze color over a completed black and white painting. I actually stayed pretty loose and the painting went incredibly quick. The final step of adding color presented some problems but it’s giving me more insight in to the transparency and values of pigments I stick to. And using a honey binder watercolor brand, like M. Graham, on top of the smooth ground gave it some magical qualities that are similar to oil. Which I absolutely loved. It was a fun little break from my more serious work.

July 7, 2025

This gouache painting is a compelling reinterpretation of Johannes Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring, replacing the original’s soft elegance with a bolder, more contemporary edge. The subject’s vivid orange headscarf adds a striking contrast to the dark background, drawing immediate attention to her thoughtful, almost confrontational gaze. The textured brushstrokes and rich, earthy palette give the piece a tactile depth and painterly energy that differentiates it from the smooth subtlety of the original. Her expression, simultaneously vulnerable and strong, invites the viewer into a quiet moment of introspection. Signed in blue by the artist, the work pays homage to a timeless classic while asserting a distinct and personal voice.

July 1, 2025

Circus Act presents a haunting and satirical courtroom drama in which a clown—dressed in exaggerated red-and-white stripes with a stern, painted expression—stands accused of being a menace to society. The figure dominates the witness stand, looming uncomfortably large in both presence and implication. Behind him, a row of stone-faced jurors looks on with a mix of judgment and detachment, while silhouetted members of the audience watch the proceedings in silence. The stark lighting and somber tones heighten the absurdity of the scene, turning the courtroom into a stage where societal fears, scapegoating, and spectacle collide. Through this unsettling juxtaposition of comedy and condemnation, Circus Act invites the viewer to question who defines disorder—and whether the real performance lies in the trial itself.

April 30, 2025

A flame glows brightest in the dark. I frequently use fire and ice as metaphors, influenced by Robert Frost’s writing. My fascination with flames shows in my youthful and curious expression. In moments of darkness, fire will illuminate our world. I will not let the cold sink into my heart, as it did the night of Snowfall. Not again. My candle’s flame may flicker, but I tend to it and refuse to let the light die out. From a small flame, you can ignite so much. Its potential should be respected, but used only with the utmost care. No matter how cold the world gets, I will not allow others to blow it out. My fire, I will guard with my life. One day, I will use it to set the rest of the world ablaze.

April 13, 2025

My first attempt to mix both watercolor and oil pastels. I decided to draw up some Iris Flowers.

April 1, 2025

This was my April Fools joke for 2025. The canvas will be repurposed to paint “Silver Ballet.”

March 2, 2025

A 1 hour watercolor painting of a ladybug. Not for sale as I painted it for my son to hang up at his mother’s house. His mother absolutely loves ladybugs! 🐞

February 26, 2025

Based on February 26th, 2020: The snowfall to me is such a funny thing. Its tranquility is something I’ve grown to love. In adolescence, it became my medium for meditation. To escape the busyness of the world with the flutter of falling flakes. Yet, I’ve realized it’s what’s responsible for troubling my heart. I lost the love of my life only due to the icy weather. With the snow, only did that violent cluster of twisted automobile came into existence. Many years later, waiting for snowfall for my last moments became an obsession. I found a place to spectate that last snowfall, where water falls in the forest to carve stone. As I lean against an old maple’s trunk, I lay watching guard of a stone grotto temple at the base of the falling stream. This temple has no worshipers but only prayers from the whistling branches. There is a sacredness I find in this place’s beauty. A sacredness I myself no longer share. The lone guard of this temple has grown old and tired. Complacent with the agonies of life. The frozen flakes drift down to smother most sounds. Blanketing me with its comfort. The wind kisses my neck, running it’s chilling fingers down my spine. My dulled and greyed eyes grow heavy. From the little light left from the winter night sky, glistens the landscape to reveal a faint figure in the dark’s thickness. It’s my love greeting me to a long-awaited reunion. Reaching her hands out for mine, closer and closer as her figure enclosed in on my restful state. Until her spirit wraps around me. Her warm embrace only cools. First my skin, then the fibers of my being. Now finally the cold creeping into my slowing heart.

February 23, 2025

In 2021: For 15 years, I built a career in software engineering. Working my way up the white-collar ladder. At the height of my career, working up to the Director or Executive level. At times, running my own businesses. My same-aged friends coined the nickname “Young Money” for me, which I was never big on being titled. Sooner or later, I believe all of us working in an office setting eventually reflect and ask ourselves, “What am I doing?” Questioning if what we’re doing is even meaningful. Maybe longing for the outdoors and venturing into the rest of the world beyond the concrete highrise walls in that corporate park. This painting is meant to exemplify that moment of reflection.

February 2, 2025

Based on October 7th, 2022: A few years ago I had accomplished a dream of mine and won my way with my beloved team to the United States Tennis Association National Championships. I had spent many years prior, captaining and building teams just to fall short of winning districts each year. Finally winning our season, sectionals, districts, state, and then winning the Midwest championship; we finally did it. This painting isn’t about the feeling of defeat on the court, as that’s always a chance to improve and grow. I didn’t lose in that aspect, because I was nearly undefeated that year and was almost a guaranteed win on doubles. This painting represents the agony, disappointment, disgust, and deceit, I felt when I learned I could not go to play alongside my friends in the championship in Scottsdale Arizona. I had let my team down and missed out on a once in a lifetime accomplishment.