My older self stands as a guide, a protector, a witness to every step I take. I let this painting serve as a reminder that all my movements are watched over, sacred, and moving me closer to my divine purpose. The pomegranate—fruit of life—blooms here, bursting with vitality, birthing life into me AND these b*tches *Nicki Minaj Snarl*. Each seed holds growth, transformation, and the pulse of my own becoming.
This painting feels like a lil love letter to my family. Bughas Fish n’ Chips was inspired by my brother, Rob, because he dead loves chips and going fishing; Chubbs Chubbs is my brother, Lish Lish’s Ice cream shop because he loves sweets. The whole idea came from my mom—she planted the first seed. When she told me stories about her childhood, about growing up, outside with her sisters, Kim, NeNe, and Marce, block parties, double-dutch, being her hood’s dancing queen, SHOUTOUT ANGEL, something in me wanted to paint it all back into existence. I wanted her to see her childhood again—alive, bright, and full of motion. Of course, I had to tuck in my The Wiz references. The girls jumping rope are dancing on yellow brick road. The rope colors are purple and green ______. On the sidewalk, I chalked a portal of green, purple, and red—colors of transition, of movement from one stage to another, from childhood to adulthood, from memory to art. I love how the block ended up resembling the view from my grandma’s stoop in Brooklyn. All the girls are dressed in their Sunday’s best because growing up, we were never really allowed to wear our good clothes outside. But here, in this world, I wanted the kidz to have freedom— to play beautifully, to exist in their full glory without apology.
I could cry just thinking about this painting—the one that began everything. May of 2025. I had just started The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, and for the first time in a long time I was asking myself real questions: Who am I? What do I want from this life? What do I want every day to feel like? I wrote a list of all the things I am and all the things I long to be: a DJ, a poet, a jazz and soul singer, a music producer, a videographer, a cartoonist, a bass player, a nail tech, a drummer, a painter, a therapist, a travelling queen. And somewhere in that process, I remembered—painting was one of the few things that ever quieted my mind. I’ve always painted since young. My thoughts slow down when I paint; sometimes they even disappear – hella rare my brain is always on go. This piece grew out of my daily walks around my block. My mailman—who I absolutely adore—always stops to talk when he’s around. My OG on the porch offers me water when it’s hot. I grew up very close to my dad. He never felt threatened or “less masculine” because I wanted to do things with him that people label as feminine like play with polly pockets. He owed me anyway since he would unplug my controller when [we] was playing duckhunt. That spirit sits in the pink car in the driveway—a symbol of his openness, his comfort in himself—and in the way everyone in the painting acknowledges one another with respect. The boys in the car are my brothers, my cousins, my friends. Mutual recognition. Mutual love.
This painting is deeply healing for me. I’m a PK—pastor’s kid—and anyone who grew up that way knows the strange blend of beauty and pressure that comes with it. The feeling of eyes on you, the quiet expectations, the unspoken rules about how you should carry yourself. But there is also so much sacred wonder in church. The way people come together, all different, gathering for the simple, shared hope of doing good and staying connected. If you know me, you know how much I adore my grandmothers. And anyone who knows my Mema, Mary, can spot her immediately in this painting. I love me some God, and now—after years of figuring out what faith means on my own terms—I also genuinely love me some church again. I love The Wiz. Every choir member in this painting is inspired by a character from the film, all journeying along their own yellow brick road. I chose not to include the pastor in the chair. Instead, the pastor stands among the people—in the community—so that you can determine for yourself who and where you find your guidance.
I love me some anime. I love dragons. And I love seeing Black people in magical spaces—worlds where we soar, transform, and take up space as heroes, mystics, and beings of pure imagination. This painting was born straight out of that love. Out of all the nights I spend watching anime and wishing I saw more of us woven into those worlds. So I created my own *tongue out emoji*
This was one of my very first oil paintings. It took me an entire month after buying the paints to finally touch brush to canvas—because sometimes it takes me a while to step into new things. A new place (I still haven’t made it to that Planet Fitness in the mall), new people (I will observe someone for mad long before engaging depending on the place). My mind tends to wait for readiness. It’s a gift, keeping me gentle with myself—and a curse, slowing my steps even when my heart is eager. This painting is a portrait of a real person I’ve quietly carried with me. Almost every morning, walking from my grandma’s house on my way to the 4 train, I see a person dressed just like this, in rotating pieces of clothing, always paired with his pitbull. There was something regal about him, something effortlessly majestic in the way he simply existed, taking up space with a dignity that didn’t need permission. I wanted to immortalize that. To honor the beauty of our people, the elegance we hold even in the most ordinary moments. You never truly know what art you inspire just by walking through the world.
I painted this as a meeting between two versions of me: the child being gently cared for by the woman I’m becoming in a place I would raise my younger self: whimsical, tender, silly, and beautifully my own. Both wear their “A” around their necks, a quiet thread of continuity. Young me flashes a NERD belt (when those bedazzled square belts were poppin best BELIEVEEEEEE I had every color imaginable); older me carries a NERD tattoo— the current me has books, a brain, anime, poems and raps, cartoons, flowers, dragons, beetles, and more tatted. The contrast leaves space for another reading too: a guardian and her child: a place she created for her child where bobos shimmer, Blue Magic glows, and hair pins scatter like tiny constellations. Where a hot comb sings in the morning, and the stove warms eggs and memories all at once. The picture frame in the background stands as a window through time, representing the stages of who we’ve been and who we come from. And in the corner, a tiny bird perches—because I adore birds. I wanted it to feel like both—ancestry and intimacy, self-love and lineage intertwined.
This painting is my love letter to jazz—the soundtrack of my everyday life. Jazz is where I go to breathe, to reflect, to move, to feel, and I wanted this piece to radiate the way the music wraps itself around me. Jazz is magic because it molds itself to whoever’s listening: you can sit with it, dance with it, play to it, or gather together and let it fill the room. I wanted to capture all of those energies at once. But mind you, imagine for yourself any music that could be playing. I listened to RANGES of music when painting this piece. Jazz inspired the background, the movements, but sh*t, you can hear whatever you want. The spades table is inspired by my family. The woman with the warm brown-and-orange braids is my auntie-bestie, BEAUTTYYYYYYY, Annetta – Beautilicious for the real. This whole corner hums with the familiar comfort of home, laughter, and good company. This is one of the most detailed pieces I’ve ever created. I poured intention into every outfit, every gesture, every vibe. All of my people began as stick figures; then I painted their skin. Only when each person’s spirit felt clear did their clothing and personality unfold. It was like each character stepped forward in their own time forreal. Also, shoutout to my cousin, my gurllllllll, Kiers!!!!! The hair of the person with the gold tiger print outfit is inspired by YOU!!! My cousin dead been rockin different color braids and locs since early 2000s – she stays pickin the cutest most eccentric colors that always compliment her energy. Every figure here represents something I love: dancing, sitting alone with my thoughts, making music, listening to music, and being surrounded by people who bring joy into my life.
DON DADA, – both this piece, and the older version of self piece grew straight from the soil of my therapy sessions—those sacred hours that have lifted my spirit, reshaped my voice, and helped me meet myself with more tenderness than I ever thought possible. So much of my art blooms from those conversations. Orange, one of my favorite colors, burns at the heart of this piece—warm, electric, alive. It gives the painting a radiant confidence, the kind that feels like one of the truest versions of me: a rockstar, a bad b*tch, a woman who knows her power and dresses like it. And please—look at those f*ckin pants. That belt. The attitude stitched into every line. And don’t even get me started on the nails. Long, loud, and doing the absolute most—just the way I love them. I even wore nails like this, gummy bears and all, to one of my first court appearances while representing kids in criminal juvenile court. If you know me, you know I’m a jewelry gurllll through and through. That love shows up in this piece too, just like it does across many of my paintings. To me—and to my community—jewelry is more than decoration. It’s personality, it’s heritage, it’s royalty. It’s the way we honor ourselves, adorning our bodies with the kind of richness we deserve.
I love cars—not the mechanics (don’t ask me a single thing), but the design, the attitude, the personality a car can carry. This painting is my ode to that love, and to my childhood in a way that feels both nostalgic and playful. I grew up with two younger brothers, the lone girl until my sister arrived when I was nine. Growing up with brothers meant living in a world of WWE and makeshift bedroom arenas, learning beyblades and NBA teams, and absorbing all the “I grew up with brothers” energy while still holding onto my own femininity. This painting taps into that world: the bold designs, the animated colors, the finesse. When I showed it to my mom, she immediately saw herself and her friends. I love that it brought her there. Also, if you peep, the background has certain green spots that don’t fully blend in. Me, Amanda, Juh Juh, Lish, and Zoe, was hittin the cotton eye joe too hard, painting dropped on the floor – ain’t have the same paint, can’t find the same paint. Is what it is – adds character hehehe *sweating emoji*
Sometimes, you just gotta sit like this after a long day. I came home from work one night with that familiar ache—the kind that makes you exhale and think, God, the day really tired me out. As a kid’s lawyer, I spend my days pouring into our babies, giving and giving until the hours blur into more than eight. And before I found a good balance between work and real life, I sometimes found there was barely enough of me left to pour back into myself. That exhaustion became the blue in this piece—its cool weight, its softness edged with sorrow. The black gathered in the hips carries another truth: the quiet stress that settles where so many women hold it, tucked deep in the body until it becomes its own kind of shadow.
Many of my paintings spring from the magic of everyday life, from noticing the people around me as the world moves. One night, out in the city with my friends, I saw a person on the phone eating pizza. I know when something has inspired me; I’ll be like yup that’s a painting. That’s what I thought when I saw this person
This painting is just so damn satisfying to me. It was inspired by an episode of The Chi but the feeling of it stretches far beyond any one moment or place. It holds that timeless scene you can find anywhere: chilling with an OG, soaking up wisdom, laughing, talking life, learning without even realizing you’re learning. When I look at it, I see my two brothers. I see my dad. I see my godfather, my grandfather, my uncles—all my peoples layered into one image. All those men who guided me, protected me, teased me, taught me. Their energy lives inside this painting like a heartbeat. I chose the pink background with full intention. People don’t usually associate Black men with softness, tenderness, or gentleness—and that’s exactly why I wanted to wrap them in that color. To show the softness they carry, the warmth, the depth.
This painting is the twin to my tired-after-work girl, but this one? This is me every single Friday. I adore my job and I love representing my babies, but Lord… Friday could never come fast enough. The moment I’m free, the shoes are off, the work shirt is gone, and I’m already halfway into living a life far beyond my 9–5. But this piece is more than the relief of a workweek ending. It’s the feeling of release itself—that exhale after holding everything together for too long. It’s that moment when you’ve accomplished something difficult, or when life has been rockin your boat no Aaliyah, and suddenly the weight lifts and you can breathe again.
My sister. Words can hardly capture the depth of love and gratitude I hold for her. She is a built-in best friend, a constant presence, a light in my life. Zoe—her name meaning life—has brought that life to me in ways too profound to fully share here. Writing this, I almost teared up. This painting is inspired by a photo of us at my mom’s office when we were growing up. She makes fun of me for introducing her to Notorious the Movie, Belly, Shottas, and putting her onto Lil’ Kim at the age of three, but I couldn’t let her miss out on the greats. This painting is a celebration of all the ways we’ve grown together, laughed together, and shaped each other. I love my sister.

Gallery Exhibition, 2026