The Artist
PAINT IS HOW I BLEED
Every canvas is a confession. Every brushstroke, a reckoning.
I never set out to make pretty things. I set out to make honest ones.
My work lives in the space between control and chaos — where a painting stops being planned and starts being felt. I work in oils, acrylics, and whatever else refuses to behave. The mess is intentional. The rawness is the point.
I've been painting since I was old enough to ruin walls. Formally trained, informally unlearned. I've shown in galleries across the country and sold to collectors who wanted something that didn't match their couch — something that challenged them, unsettled them, stayed with them.
Spilled Souls is my studio, my archive, and my direct line to the people who feel too much. No middlemen. No gallery markup. Just the work.
THE PROCESS
The Impulse
Every piece starts with something I can't shake — an emotion, a memory, a color that won't leave me alone. I don't sketch. I start.
The Fight
The middle of every painting is a war. I destroy what I've built. I paint over what was working. I push until something true emerges from the wreckage.
The Surrender
A painting is done when it stops asking for more. Not when it's perfect — when it's honest. That's the only finish line that matters.
OWN A PIECE OF IT
Every original is a one-of-a-kind. Once it's gone, it's gone.