About
My art began in my grandmother’s kitchen, the same walls where my mother grew up. Her landscape painting hung there for years, and every time I passed it, those colors spoke to me. That’s where I first felt the need to create. I started with watercolors, chasing that feeling. But when I discovered acrylics, something clicked. The boldness, the texture, the way layers could build emotion—it freed me. Today, I work abstractly because it’s honest: no rules, just a raw conversation between color, shape, and texture. Every piece is a map of my inner world—chaotic, joyful, restless, or still. I push paint to find places words can’t go. When you stand before my work, I don’t want you to just see—I want you to feel, to wander into your own memories, moods, or dreams. That’s the power of abstraction: it’s not about my story alone. It’s about yours, too. I’m still that kid from Fort Worth chasing the thrill of a blank canvas. Only now, I know it’s not just paint. It’s a lifeline.