Behind the Brush: Why I Paint Real People

Greetings friends,

It’s been a minute. Lately, I’ve wanted to share more candidly and intentionally about my process, the people I choose to paint, and why it matters. I mean, why should anyone care about the strangers they see in my work?

I’ve always been fascinated by people. Growing up, I spent hours watching and analyzing interviews from my favorite artists and musicians. Some videos I watched over and over.  I paid attention to the small things- phrases that stuck in my head, nervous laughter, the way someone might trail off at the end of sentences during a meandering thought.  I wasn’t just interested in what they made; I wanted to understand who they were and what shaped them.

Later, when I joined social media, I discovered projects like Humans of St. Louis and Humans of New York, where ordinary people were treated with the same attention usually reserved for celebrities. I was into the honesty of it and loved the way that people were shown as complex, imperfect, real individuals. 

Eventually, when the pandemic came around and I noticed my world and relationships shifting alongside the isolation that crept in with quarantine, I felt even more compelled. Entrenched in our own little bubbles, I noticed it was easier for apathy to creep in and prevent connections with those around us. It’s easy to lose sight of humanity when we are all locked behind screens staring at people who are prettier, more successful, and more interesting. 

My work is about holding on authenticity and our shared humanity. 

I paint people who feel real to me- not idealized figures or familiar icons- and are shaped by their own environments, histories, and unique perspectives. In my work, I combine realism with abstraction and mixed media, allowing fragments, marks, and textures to interrupt and integrate with the figure. Rather than being decorative, these elements represent the ways experiences, memories, and surroundings become part of the people who have lived them. We are not defined by our environment and experiences, but we are shaped by them.

For certain series, I interview my subjects and listen closely to their stories. Their words inform my visual decisions, influencing color, form, and material. The final portrait is not meant to be a literal translation of what they say, but an interpretation of what it feels like to carry those experiences in a body.

I’m interested in the space between being seen and being known. Realism asserts presence, affirming, this person exists. Abstraction acknowledges that no one is ever fully legible. The space in between those two realities is where my work lives.

My goal isn’t to shock, but it isn’t necessarily to comfort either. I want people who see themselves in these paintings to feel recognized and respected. And I want those who feel unsettled or challenged by my work to pause and consider perspectives and life experiences different from their own.

I believe there is beauty in diversity (in all of its forms) and that every person carries a story shaped by forces both visible and unseen that deserves to be shared. My paintings are an attempt to witness and celebrate that complexity, and remind us of the inherent value of the humans we live with.  

Luck and love,