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The same questions echo throughout my work: who we are, what we remember, what we inherit, and the stories we create to make sense of it all.

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I am drawn to folklore, mythology, ritual, ancestral memory, archetype, and the unseen—not as subjects to illustrate, but as languages that have long helped us understand what cannot always be explained. Across cultures and generations, we have created gods, spirits, saints, monsters, angels, protectors, warriors, and heroines. Beneath those stories live fear, longing, grief, desire, courage, belonging, resistance, and transformation.

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For many years, I moved away from figurative painting and deeper into abstraction. Then, almost without invitation, the figures began returning.

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At first, there was one. Then another. Now they arrive one after another, each with a presence and history of her own.

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They are not portraits. I think of them as existing at a threshold between the real and the imagined. Part archetype, part memory. Some feel ancestral. Some protective. Some are defiant or vulnerable. Others arrive as warriors, witnesses, rebels, guides, or something ceremonial.

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They inhabit worlds that feel familiar, yet slightly beyond our own.

 

Marks, patterns, symbols, fragments of language, and repeated forms appear across their bodies and surroundings, suggesting lineage, ritual, protection, experience, and energy. I rarely understand these markings completely while I am painting them, and I have become increasingly interested in leaving that uncertainty intact.

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I want the figures to feel discovered rather than designed.

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My work has always been rooted in the energetic. I am interested in the intangible frequency of a moment—the residue of movement, sound, emotion, place, and experience. A surface can shift, hum, obscure, or reveal. Color can carry emotion before narrative takes over. A gesture can hold something language cannot.

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Words often enter the work afterward through poetry, titles, fragments of narrative, handwritten marks, or imagined histories. Painting comes first. Writing follows as another layer, another way into the world of the image. I do not use language to explain a painting; I use it to expand what the painting has already begun.

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I am interested in the myths we inherit and those we invent for ourselves. The roles we are given and the ones we choose. The ancestors whose stories may still move through us. The protectors we imagine. The narratives we preserve and the ones we decide to break. I am fascinated by the way ancient stories continue to surface inside contemporary lives.

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The figure allows me to move between the individual and the archetypal, the intimate and the mythic. She might belong to this moment, another century, a story passed down through generations, or only to the imagination.

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My work lives somewhere between inheritance and reinvention. These figures carry histories, secrets, wounds, defiance, tenderness, and light.

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Ultimately, painting gives me a visual language for what can be felt but not always named. I am  painting to discover who we are and to reveal what we have carried with us.