My favorite work is collage that feels like impressionistic painting. Each torn piece of my hand-painted paper acts as a brushstroke—layered, expressive, and rich with color. Up close, you see the individual fragments; from a distance, they come together as a cohesive, painterly image built entirely from torn bits of paper.

I find inspiration in museums, galleries, and travel, but I’m especially drawn to overlooked details—tile patterns, weathered walls, bits of ephemera that others pass by. While teaching in Europe, intricate patterns on manhole covers inspired the halos in my contemporary saint portraits. These small discoveries become starting points, transforming the ordinary into something layered, meaningful, and unexpected.

I would use the $25,000 to carve out dedicated time to create without obligation—something that’s become rare after years of teaching. I’d develop a new body of work driven purely by curiosity, experimenting with unfamiliar materials and processes without the pressure to produce or instruct. It would be an investment in exploration and growth—and ultimately, a collection I could share with the world.