His work speaks to human emotion, capturing its essence through multiple layers and unique colors. His art is often misunderstood. People wonder why he was so great when, technically, his paintings are quite simple, and why so many are drawn to them. It’s not because he was technically a great painter; he was unique. Over the years, as his work has traveled around the world, people have noticed an interesting balance of strong reactions and indifference to it. I find that interesting. Rothko’s mission was to paint emotion in the same way Mozart did with music, but this is often overlooked.

Much like Rothko’s work, I believe his influence on mine has helped me discover something unique: an ability to not just feel deeply, but to think deeper and ask why. In my work, I always say, “If I can raise your state of consciousness when you experience it, I did my job right” good or bad, happy or sad. It changes you. It’s my mission to understand why and how. My first painting collection, From the Shadows, helped me through some of the hardest times, some of the darkest years, when I didn’t know what to do or where to go, and I felt alone. It changed me. And so, that is my pursuit: to understand, to explore, to bring the human condition to life, to dig deeper than even Rothko ever did and share it with those who experience and enjoy my work.

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“Surreal Memory was the collection I discovered my voice, but didn’t realize it until years later”

2020 was an unsettling time for everyone. A global pandemic shut the world down, and most of us didn’t realize at first that everything was changing beneath our feet, that the world we knew wouldn’t return. Before COVID, I was constantly moving. I was traveling, always outside, always photographing. At the time, I was focused on portrait and fashion work, and I believed I had a clear sense of where my life was headed.

Then COVID hit, and everything stopped. Like so many others, my world collapsed overnight. I couldn’t travel, couldn’t work with people, couldn’t photograph the way I had before. Being in Portland made it even harder, the city shut down four separate times, and people were locked inside, unsure of what to do and afraid of what was coming next.

That period became one of deep reflection, though not by choice. I found myself constantly thinking about my life, my direction, and what any of it meant. The world felt unreal, like a strange, disconnected dream, and I became fixated on that feeling. I began walking every day, sometimes for hours at a time, watching the world slow down, listening to the silence, and observing people who felt just as lost as I did. It became increasingly clear that nothing was going back to the way it was.

I knew I couldn’t sit still and wait for the world to decide my future for me. I needed to do something. That’s when I decided to start a project. I didn’t worry about titles or concepts. I simply went out and photographed what I was experiencing. Every day, I walked with my camera, shooting constantly, searching for a way to visually express what this moment felt like. Eventually, I captured the first image that made sense.

I remember staring at it, completely absorbed. It felt like exactly what I wanted to say. I wanted the work to reflect the emotional reality of that time, a quiet, confusing dream, like a fading memory, where faces blurred and days bled together. I kept going out and shooting, trying to build on that feeling, but nothing else seemed to fit.

Six months later, I finally understood what was missing. I needed to approach the world differently. I began intentionally putting myself into a meditative state, disconnecting from everything around me and focusing only on observation. I would walk while listening to movie soundtracks, letting my mind drift so I wasn’t actively participating in the world, just watching it. That shift changed everything.

Through that process, I was able to complete the series in two weeks. Even then, it felt unfinished, not because the project wasn’t complete, but because I still had more to explore. I left Portland and continued searching for that same state of awareness. I became obsessed with it. In that mindset, the world felt quieter, clearer, and more meaningful. Every person, place, and experience, good or bad, became interesting. I absorbed everything.

That journey began with a road trip across America, driving from Portland to New York. It marked the start of a long and difficult process, not just of discovering the world and my voice as an artist, but of discovering myself.