Who am I?

I paint from old family snapshots — moments where nothing much is happening, but everything is felt.

These are unposed images: a child asleep in a chair, someone folding laundry, the clutter of a lived-in room. In that mundanity, I find memory, loss, and the quiet weight of love.

Between the ages of 9 and 21, I cared for and lost nine family members. That experience — profound, formative, and private — deeply informs my work. I don’t paint to retell a story, but to suggest one. To let a viewer linger in the atmosphere of an image and feel something they can’t quite name.

My process is grounded in realism, but I resist polish. I work from family photos with poor lighting and awkward framing — not despite their flaws, but because of them. They feel true. Each painting is an act of preservation, an invitation to pause in the middle of ordinary life and see what often goes unseen.