tan Artwork

February 26, 2025

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 2, 2025

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.

October 17, 2024

Linda Lounging is a quick study of my friend (name has been changed for privacy), lounging on the couch. It was done at her request, jokingly said by her, “paint me like one of you french girls”. Although, my name isn’t Jack nor do I plan on getting on any boat any time soon. Especially since the cold Ohio winter is already starting. I also used this piece to be my first practice using the ZORN pallette.

August 29, 2024

Hallelujah captures a profound and intimate moment between two figures, a woman and a man, bathed in muted, melancholic tones. The woman, with a look of quiet concentration, gently holds the man’s head as she carefully cuts his hair. The tenderness in her touch contrasts with the rough, darkened surroundings, suggesting a setting filled with history and emotional weight. The man, seated with his back to the viewer, seems resigned, his body language conveying a sense of vulnerability. Likely his pose shows signs of trauma. His unruly hair and the scattered clippings on his shoulders evoke a passage of time and perhaps a long period of neglect or hardship.