My practice transforms lived experience into layered abstractions that examine the ways we are shaped by memory, connection, and the possibility of renewal. Working through cycles of accumulation, concealment, excavation, and repair, I create paintings that hold traces of what has been altered, endured, and reclaimed. Each gesture leaves a record. Each layer carries the possibility of revealing what was once hidden. The surface becomes both archive and landscape, holding fragments of experience that resist fixed narratives while remaining open to transformation. 

Fragmentation and renewal exist in continual dialogue throughout my work. The paintings embrace ambiguity, allowing contradiction, vulnerability, and resilience to coexist. Fragments become sites of possibility, where repair does not erase what came before but allows new forms of becoming to emerge. 

As an African American artist, I recognize that lived experience is both personal and collective. Histories are inherited as much as they are lived. They are carried through generations, communities, and acts of witness that shape our understanding of identity, belonging, and possibility. This awareness informs my work, not through illustration, but through a process that honors what endures, what resurfaces, and what refuses to be forgotten. 

Grace functions as a generative force within my practice. Rooted in lived experience, the work reflects my belief that transformation is made possible through human connection and acts of care. I understand grace not simply as something bestowed, but as something received, shared, and extended. It exists in the relationships that sustain us, in the generosity that makes survival possible, and in the quiet ways we participate in one another's becoming. My paintings consider how grace and human connection shape our capacity for resurgence. 

Ultimately, the work invites viewers into a space of contemplation. Rather than offering answers, the paintings ask us to consider what we carry forward, what we choose to preserve, and how we might create the conditions for one another to flourish. In that space, abstraction becomes less a language of certainty than an invitation to imagine new ways of seeing, remembering, and belonging.