About
I’ve spent most of my life searching for where I fit.
Making things was one of the few places where that question disappeared.
With music, art, design or anything else I could build, there wasn’t one correct answer waiting for me. I could follow an idea, make a decision, change direction, get lost in it and see where it went.
Sometimes creating is play. Sometimes it’s escape. Sometimes it’s a way to process something I can’t explain any other way.
And sometimes I simply have an idea in my head and need to know what it looks like outside of it.
Finding a Name for It
For a long time I didn’t have a name for the way my mind moved — the noise, the pull toward the next idea, the strain of trying to function in places that didn’t fit.
Learning that ADHD was part of that story didn’t change what I make. It gave me language for something that had already been showing up in the work. The paintings didn’t suddenly become about ADHD. I finally recognized what they had been carrying.
One Part of a Bigger Story
Out of Place is one way into that feeling: animals frozen somewhere they don’t belong, with no next scene to resolve the tension.
It’s only one part of a larger story. Never Still follows the mind in motion. Reality on Display puts more specific ADHD experiences into view. Raw Emotion holds work that sits closest to vulnerable feeling. Off Script holds experiments and standalone ideas that don’t need a series name to matter. Private Collection holds personal gifts and one-of-a-kind pieces made for particular people.
Making Has Always Been Natural
Creating has never felt like something I had to force. Music, drawing, building, designing, painting — when I’m making, I’m not performing a version of myself. I’m following something that already wants to exist.
From Ideas to Finished Work
Ideas have never been scarce. What I’ve struggled with is leaving them trapped in my head — starting with energy, then getting pulled toward the next thing before the work is finished.
I’m trying to change that. Not by becoming someone else, but by catching more of what arrives and making it real.
What I Hope You Feel
I don’t need every painting to explain itself. I want someone to look at a piece and feel something true — recognition, discomfort, curiosity, a story of their own.
If the work does that, it’s doing what I hoped it would.