NOTES FROM 30,000 FEET:
WHERE HEADS MEET CLOUDS

Some wear their dreams like hats— I wear mine like a 747, Crown of aluminum and ambition, Wings spreading wider Than everyone's expectations.

See that perfect shade of lipstick? It matches the determination Of every woman who ever looked up And thought: "Not high enough, Not far enough, not dream enough."

The hangar walls grow forest-green With envy or with hope (Sometimes they're the same thing) While I stand here wearing Tomorrow like a hat.

They say keep your head out of the clouds. I say: Why stop there? Let's wear the whole damn sky, Turn jet engines into accessories, Make runway models of us all.

Dimensions: 90 X 90"
Year: 2002

A GUIDE TO SOLITARY CELEBRATIONS:
NOTES ON PARADING FOR ONE

The guest list is perfect: One umbrella (white, for optimism) One fire hydrant (red, for rebellion) Two shadows (navy blue, for company) And all the peach-colored quiet you can hold

Some parades need No confetti, no crowd— Just clean white linen Against summer concrete, And the courage to walk alone.

Notice how the shadows stretch? That's not loneliness— That's your audience growing, Your spotlight expanding, Your stage getting grander.

The fire hydrant stands at attention, Like a tiny brass band Playing silent symphonies For an audience of one Who dressed up for the occasion.

Remember: Every sidewalk's a parade route When you're brave enough To be your own grand marshal, Your own cheering section, Your own reason to celebrate.

Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Year: 2022
Dimensions: 80" x 64"

FIELD NOTES FROM A PLAYGROUND PHILOSOPHER:
WHEN WORDS DON'T BREAK YOU, THEY BECOME ART

They said sticks and stones could break us, But look what happens When you throw them at a pink sky— They burst into mint-green constellations, Sage-colored shooting stars.

Remember the playground warnings? How they never mentioned That broken things make the best bridges, That scattered twigs become compasses, That stones can be stepping stones?

See how the fragments dance? Like pickup sticks thrown by joy, Like nature's jazz notes Against cotton candy clouds, Each scar a celebration.

This is what survival looks like: Not perfect, not pristine, But spectacular in scatter, Beautiful in breaking, Magnificent in mess.

Let them throw their stones— We'll build sculptures, Let them snap their sticks— We'll make windchimes, Everything breaks into beauty eventually.

Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Year: 2024
Dimensions: 60" x 60"

DARK NIGHTS, EARLY MORNINGS:
AN ODE TO THE DAWN SEEKERS

Here we are again, 3AM warriors in white, Not lost, but finding— Each darkness holds a seed of light, Each shadow proves the sun exists.

You see three figures hunched? Look closer: They're not beaten, they're brewing Tomorrow's possibilities, While the rest of the world sleeps.

There's something holy here, In this dark-stained quiet, Where night and morning kiss, Where tired souls grow stronger, Where dreams get built in darkness.

That red glow in the corner? That's not danger—that's dawn Practicing its entrance, Reminding us that every dark night Is just morning gathering courage.

We're not haunting these hours, We're harvesting them. Not suffering through darkness, But sculpting with it, Until beauty breaks like day.

Medium: Oil on canvas
Year: 2020
Dimensions: 40 x 32in

HANGING ON BY SILLY STRING:
A SURVIVAL GUIDE FOR THE ABSURDLY OPTIMISTIC

In a world that demands steel cables, I choose neon pink plastic. In a landscape that worships anchors, I trust in party favors.

The weight seems impossible. The burden looks crushing. But haven't you heard? Silly string is stronger than suffering.

What holds us up Is not what holds us down. What saves us Is not what steadies us.

Let them call it childish. Let them call it weak. I've seen titanium snap While silly string still sings.

Medium: Oil on canvas
Year: 2022
Dimensions: 84 X 88in.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

A BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO JUMPING INTO JOY:
INSTRUCTIONS FOR OPTIMISTIC LEAPS

Ready:
Wiggle those toes at the edge Paint them with courage Let them grab hold of this yellow runway Like kids clutching ice cream cones— Sweet anticipation.

Set:
Feel how the world goes quiet When you're up this high? That's not fear whispering— That's possibility clearing its throat Before shouting "CANNONBALL!"

Go:
(But wait—let's freeze this moment) See how the mint-green sky Holds its breath with you? How the yellow below Promises to catch your splash?

They say look before you leap, But sometimes looking is leaping, Sometimes standing still is flying, Sometimes ten tiny toes Are all the wings you need.

Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Year: 2024
Dimensions: 56" x 56"

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

A GIRL NAMED SUNSHINE:
A LOVE LETTER TO LIGHT

They thought naming her Sunshine was too much pressure— but look how she wears it, like honey wears gold, like dawn wears possibility.

In a world obsessed with shadow, she chose to become warmth itself. Not the harsh light of scrutiny, but the gentle glow of afternoon, when everything looks a little more loved.

Sleep isn't darkness for her— it's just sunshine taking a different form, pooling in the corners of her dreams, painting peace in pastels, turning rest into radiance.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

A POCKET GUIDE TO DANCING IN DENIM:
OBSERVATIONS FROM THE DANCE FLOOR

Watch how blue becomes a rhythm— Two figures swimming through twilight, Their Levi's keeping time Like metronomes made of memories, Each back pocket a bass note.

This is how you dance in denim: No fancy dress required, Just the perfect fade of day Into the arms of evening, Two hearts beating indigo.

See how their shoulders speak? A language older than words, Newer than morning, Where "hold me closer" translates To a simple lean left.

The world says formal wear, But we know better: True romance happens in blue jeans, Where love wears work boots And grace comes stonewashed.

Some nights just need A little two-step, A lot of blue, And someone who knows How to hold both your shadow and your light.

Medium: Acrylic on canvas
Year: 2021
Dimensions: 72 X 112in

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.

Apples and Accusations: An Artistic StatementIn the depths of midnight blues, I sought to capture that eternal moment when paradise fractures – not with a serpent's whisper, but with humanity's own complicated dance of desire, judgment, and power.

Three souls locked in eternal twilight, where wine-dark secrets pool in crystal glasses and green apples hold the weight of all temptation.

The woman in black, our modern Eve, cradles possibility in her palm, while her counterpart in white and green stands as both accuser and liberator. Between them sits man, trapped in the crossfire of feminine power that both creates and destroys.I chose to bathe this moment in blue – the color of dreams and depth – because truth, like the deepest ocean, changes its hue with every fathom we dare to descend. The table becomes an altar where modern ritual plays out, each object a player in this theatre of judgment: the apple, eternal in its symbolism; the wine glasses, holding reflections of unspoken truths.

This is a moment suspended between breath and revelation, between accusation and defense, where truth and perception collide in the deep blue hour of the soul.