I create work that holds tension. Large scale paintings, installations, and surfaces that have been pushed, scraped, and rebuilt until they tell the truth. I’m drawn to hands, figures, and materials that carry memory. Acrylic, oil marker, copper, anything that can be stressed and made to endure. I don’t chase pretty. I chase honest. If it feels too clean, I keep working until it breathes.

I find it in what people carry and what they try to hide. Southern history, family stories, worn materials, and the quiet weight of lived experience. Old walls, hands that have worked, places that have seen something. I pay attention to tension, to what is held and what is slipping. Inspiration isn’t a spark for me, it’s pressure building until it has to come out.

I would scale the work and deepen the impact. Fund a large installation that the public can move through and feel, not just see. Invest in materials that last, expand studio capacity, and bring in collaborators. Document the process properly and create access through workshops and community engagement. This would not sit still. It would turn into work that reaches people and stays with them.