Digital Gallery

This page is dedicated to archiving my art. Some are with new owners, others have been lost to time and a digital file is all I have left of it. I still have access to many of them and are available for purchase. They will be captioned accordingly. Check out my personal page for more info on how to get into contact with me if you have any questions! In chronological order- top of page is newest, bottom is oldest. Not all will have something to say.

More to come :p

Brain-fog in the Morning

acrylic and lead on canvas - c.2024 - unavailable

During a period of adjusting to domesticity, following five long years of being heartbroken and disappointed on repeat. At the hand of others or myself, I was always waiting for the pin to drop. For abusers to pop-up at my haunt. For my home to crumble. For my job to dry up. For friends to leave. But now, with the help of a very patient man, there's calmness. No longer in the eye of the storm, it's finally over. Trauma doesn't ever leave your body, but with time and love it can get easier to observe it. It usually comes in the mornings, when I look at the woods that surround my home and think of the dominoes of my life. It doesn't really sting anymore.

Bayou

ink on paper - c.2024 - available

Untitled Sketch

ink on paper - c.2024 - unavailable

Roots

ink on paper - c.2024 - available

Study of Piss Christ

acrylic on canvas - c.2024 - available

Your savior drowns in piss along with the western values of self-idolatry and self-righteousness. You pray for peace in troubled times and, yet, you sit idle when faced with a decision. You are not exempt from the eternal global damnation just because you had a little more of a certain material extracted and depleted from the deep and repeated verses a little louder. Your god does not hear you. Your god is a lie. You are lying to yourself. You have been lied to. You make a mockery of Christ. You are a hypocrite.

Through the Trees

acrylic on canvas - c.2024 -unavailable

Each home I've lived in since leaving my childhood home had one thing in common. There was always a streetlight peaking through the trees. I would sit out on the steps to my first solo apartment and look at it for hours. There was nothing good coming from me, my life was wasting away in that lonely two-bed one-bath. I didn't want to be who I needed to be, I didn't want anything good to whisk me away from my misery. But the streetlight always made me feel better. It made me listen to the noise of that city. It made me promise to be patient, and I was. Now, in this tiny home, I catch this streetlight winking at me when I peer into the woods.

The Reflection in Your Eyes

acrylic on canvas - c.2024 - unavailable

Before you knew what was going on, I was studying your eyes. I analyzed how they flickered when we smoked cigarettes outside of the old spot. You were unaware, but I knew by the string lights we were fated. Your soul opened up to me, as did mine to you, begging not to let the lights burn before we were able to get started. I have always known I was going to love you. For my knight in shining armor.

What are your morals?

mixed media collage on canvas

It's been about a year and a half. It will not end even if NPR chooses to report false narratives and enforce the status quo. It breaks my heart over and over. And there's still people who won't even acknowledge the inhumanity.

View Me True

mixed media on canvas - c.2023 - unavailable

There was something so romantic about ideation at one point in my life. To know that the true depths of my soul didn't match how most people viewed my physical form. I was a collection of aesthetics and stereotypes so many would pick and choose from on whims. I was never allowed to bloom, or rather, I never allowed myself to bloom. No one would nurture the petals with delicacy and grace. But you do. I always knew you had the gift of understanding me in a way no one else came close to. Even in the darkest moments I found myself living, I knew the next time we met would keep me fertilized until spring.

Your Childhood Room

acrylic and lead on canvas - c.2023 - available

Midnight Prayer

acrylic on canvas - c.2023 - unavailable

Where I Feel It (I know my mom gets it)

mixed media on canvas - c.2023 - unavailable

When I was 19, I felt an undefinable connection and renewed closeness with my mother. I didn't see her much through the year. She got my married that summer. I was the maid of honor. I was inconsolable. I was so proud of her for everything she accomplished after decades of struggles. It felt like sometimes I was reliving her mistakes, and learning the lessons quicker. For some reason, there was a psychic link between me and her 29 years ago. I would feel it in my gut, heart, uterus, and bones. Generations of it. It was like she was speaking to me from the past when we're just a phone call away. And it felt like I was also communing with a descendant 29 years in the future. Telling her to never settle and honor her matrons. I hope my mom felt that way, too. That she was learning from her mother and teaching her daughter. Maybe I just have a slight dissociative disorder, or maybe I was just 19.