I paint where
people gather.

My grandmother taught my mother to paint, and my mother taught me. That's the whole origin story — no art school, just a kitchen table and someone willing to hand the brush over.

My family has always been my first and most loyal audience, and I think that's why I've never been drawn to making art that sits quietly in a studio. The version of creativity I grew up with was something shared — it happened alongside conversations, family gatherings, and everyday life. To me, art has always been less about displaying something finished and more about creating moments that bring people together.

Public art and community work feel like the closest way to recreate that on a larger scale. Whether it's a mural that brightens a street people pass every day, a classroom full of adults who arrive convinced they can't paint and leave proudly carrying something they made, or a live portrait sketched in the middle of a busy event, the goal is the same: to make art feel welcoming, participatory, and accessible. I want the work to be handed over, not simply observed.

Over the years, I've been fortunate to paint murals, teach sold-out large-scale painting classes in New York and San Francisco, and create live caricatures and portraits at weddings, corporate events, and community gatherings. Each experience has reinforced how meaningful it is to create alongside people rather than apart from them.

Looking ahead, I'd love to continue expanding that work through public-facing commissions, partnerships with community organizations and cultural institutions, and classes that reach people who may have never been told they're creative — or that making art is something they're allowed to do. If my work can help someone feel a little more connected, a little more confident, or simply bring a moment of joy to a shared space, then I feel like I'm carrying forward the tradition that began around my family's kitchen table.