Ain't I Perty?
On a return flight from France in 2016 I fell into a show called Genius: Picasso. I had studied him before but not in such a cinematic way, and so soon as I was home I jumped into a canvas to slap around color with a certain carelessness and whimsical playfulness. She came together quickly and with little regard for common standards of beauty. Her face shows traces of his Demoiselles d'Avignon, stern with neutral colors yet smirking a certain Mona Lisa smile. Decorating her nude self with a rose upon her head she asks, "ain't I perty?" And it's that playful confidence that drives me to say: yes indeed.
Adam's Apple
One of the older paintings in my collection of favorites, here she is: Eve. Modeled by a friend in 2011, she's marked by a horizon line that cuts right through her, a blank face boasting my initials, and a bold grasp on that apple Adam never could get out of his throat.
Come Hither
Not all paintings take 18 years to complete! This evolved canvas began in 2006 as a self portrait for my senior thesis at Vanderbilt University. She was meek, terrified, hiding her face behind her arm with her body mainly exposed as if she's prisoner to it. The colors were bland and uninspired, and she was still - very still - accidentally representing my fear of the world more so than anything else.
After so many years of suffering through her company I finally decided to give her a makeover, something that would respect the original layout of my teenage painting but revamp it with a newer, more playful style and bolder self confidence. She's no longer afraid of your opinions, whether you think she's ugly or beautiful, and she'll pull you into her mysterious depths if you so dare.
Even better? An updated custom frame by Arthur Shane Doyle.
Existential Ennui
Sometimes I feel stuck in an eternity of existence that I'm not sure I ever signed up for - or did I? A head full of stars I can't escape and a lackluster enthusiasm for being. You know the feeling?
A Prayer
Some paintings deserve a little backstory, and she's certainly one.
As the Black Lives Matter protests were spreading across the nation, I was participating where I could - at first, with my peers and picket signs challenging our community to recognize the movement and to stand up for equality. Needless to say I felt helpless, like so many others, to change the perspective of passers-by with a little sign. I retreated to the one world where I have control, my art studio, and poured my feelings into this study as a meditation and prayer for peace, equality, and the recognition that we are all One.
One More
Sometimes it's just nice to disappear for a while. And sometimes it's nice to do so without the vices, and to paint that version of myself so that I don't have to live it.
A Haiku
He gave me flowers
White lilies, yellow roses
And I painted them.
I originally intended this to be the base coat of a more evolved painting, but quickly found that I loved the space it evokes. Entitled 'A Haiku' for its sweet brevity and concise statement, this one has been part of my personal collection and is now enjoying its first outing in four years.
Retreat on Bourbon Street
While I typically stray away from representing the visual reality of a place or object (as opposed to honoring it's emotional resonance) this special abode called for something different. Tucked away behind a classic New Orleans cottage is this antique-soaked back house, perfectly maintained and decorated to honor its city so rich with history, where my family and I were graciously hosted for a long weekend. I enjoyed its warmth so much that I hoped to share it on canvas: a luminous invitation in an often gray world.
Self Portrait with Ukulele
Here's to simplicity - and a canvas that represents the first step in most of my painting adventures. I love a good one-liner, and I love breaking my own rules, so this painting boasts both. The line starts with her left eye and dances its way through her body, uke, and chair, before jumping over to the doorway. To complete the story she needed a little something more, or less, in the empty wine bottle and glass.
Just another day at home...
Lady in Red
This might be my first surrealist painting. It's fairly straightforward, with a sassy lady up front, her face slightly dissolving into the background and a hip that just can't keep to itself.
And then there's that chair... Just a normal pink chair, levitating ever so slightly in its own space. The happy accident that brings a nonlogical sense to it all.
When Words Won't Speak
Some of us became painters because we weren't speakers.
As for me, I was painfully shy growing up - I'd blush so hard in saying my name that any ripe tomato would be jealous of my color. Words were just... too much. I've come a long way now and enjoy practicing vocal expression but it's still a struggle, and here I am in my own personal cage, yearning to speak my truth.
Inner Voices
This one - I'm not even sure about this one. I had a blank canvas and then suddenly there was this... A reflection of the troubled personas that hide inside my depths, stairwells that lead deeper into this chaos, a sunset on the horizon. Or maybe, just maybe, it's a sunrise.