I make art that grapples with the contradictions and coexistence of consumerism and conservation, pulling apart the glossy, wasteful promise of the prescribed American Dream to expose the ecological and cultural realities beneath it. As a second-generation American, I’ve lived across the wide-open landscapes of New Mexico, Idaho, Utah, and now California — places of staggering beauty, but also of extraction, erasure, and excess. I’ve seen firsthand how systems of capitalism and colonization have shaped both the storied American West and my own experiences. My work sits in that tension, sometimes mocking it, sometimes mourning it, and sometimes replacing it with the hope that it ignores.

My background in photojournalism taught me to observe. Painting lets me intervene —  I often let the environment take part in the process. Living on the West Coast has shown me how dynamic our climate is, how land and weather are in constant battle, shaping landscapes and our communities over time. My abstract work reflects that battle. As I stress-test different ideas and materials, heat blisters the surface, rain dissolves pigments, and wind rearranges both organic and inorganic elements that make their way in. I work until layers bond or collapse, colors bleed and mutate, and time and exposure create textures and moments I couldn’t have made on my own. The process is part art, part science experiment, part surrender to nature. It forces patience in contrast to the digital and commercial world’s relentless immediacy, which so often consumes me. It slows me down enough to look closely at what’s being revealed, what’s being lost, what’s real.

At the same time, my painting practice incorporates representational art too, allowing me to explore ideas through different lenses while continuously refining my overall painting skills. I believe abstraction and representation can coexist within a single piece or stand independently, each offering its own impact. I’m particularly drawn to artists like Gerhard Richter, who move fluidly between distinct styles while maintaining a strong conceptual foundation. My representational work often draws from everyday experiences. As a marketing and advertising professional to pay the bills I’ve worked on campaigns for several Fortune 500 companies over my corporate career. My practice offers me a safe place to explore my conflicted feelings about this work, and art’s role in consumerism. It often takes more inspiration from political cartoons than fine art which can often feel inaccessible or self-serious. Humor helps me process both the joyful and challenging aspects of my purpose in a way that feels more honest than other emotions.

At its core, my work is a reminder that if you zoom in close enough or zoom out far enough, we are all made of something smaller and something similar. My father’s journey to America and his career in clean energy shaped my appreciation of sustainability — and not just as a buzzword or lifestyle, but as a cultural and existential necessity. Because of that, I don’t see my work as a means to an end, but as an ongoing series of choices, risks, and compromises. I’m not always sure whether I’m trying to preserve something or let go and embrace the new — but either way, it compels me to pay attention to the world around me and my place in it.