Eclipse, Replayed
Acrylic on canvas
26 x 22 inches
2025
This painting starts with my last trip to Costa Rica. While I was there, a full lunar eclipse happened—one of those moments that feels both monumental and strangely quiet. Later that same day, I was lying in bed at my grandma’s house, watching coverage of the eclipse on TV with her. It immediately pulled me back to being a kid in that same room, watching cartoons together, time folding in on itself.
The eclipse became a stand-in for that overlap—past and present, distance and closeness, memory and observation. The image is filtered through screens, mesh, and repetition, echoing the way memory is never direct but always mediated.
I also pulled in imagery from a woven textile I saw at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The weaving reminded me of the kinds of handiwork my grandma loves—patterns built slowly, carefully, through repetition. The figure embedded in the weave made me think of her garden, her routines, and the quiet labor of care that often goes unnoticed.
Bobbys Backyard
Acrylic on canvas
26 x 22 inches
2025
This painting begins with a night photograph of my friend Bobby’s backyard—a place that holds years of shared time, wandering conversations, and late-night artist hangouts. The space has always felt a little hidden, almost overgrown in its lushness, and it mirrors something about the moment my community and I are in.
My practice is often diaristic, shaped by returning to my own archive of images. I’m interested in the way memories refuse to stay separate—how two unrelated moments can collapse into each other when they’re brought into the same visual field. Here, the mesh functions less as a screen to look through and more like a retinal after-image: a bright memory burned into vision, leaving its negative impression where another image begins to appear.
The fragmented figure of the deer comes from a woven artwork I encountered at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum—another place built from gathering artists, friends, and hidden gardens. It felt like the right ghost to let into the picture.
