New series

I hope everyone had a productive summer and, just like me, is eager for the hot weather to break. These endless hot days are brutal, and we haven't seen significant rain in two months. Despite the heat, I have stayed glued to my brushes, aside from a brief detour creating some ATCs.

I've spent the last year painting the tools my family has carried across generations. A hand drill from 1975. A wooden-handled wrench with a weathered, fractured grip. Pliers shaped like curves I recognize in my own hands. These aren't museum pieces. They've been used. They bear witness.  

When I began this series, I was thinking about what we inherit and what we choose to keep. My Chahta heritage isn't something I display. It's something I live into, quietly, through the work I do and the choices I make. These paintings are part of that work. They're my way of saying: I see you. I honor you. And I'm building something new with what you've given me.  

The series spans from 1903 to now because that's how long these tools have been in my family's hands. Over a hundred years of labor, survival, endurance. But this isn't a story about victimhood or loss. It's a story about what remains when you refuse to be diminished. It's about the lines we draw to protect ourselves. It's about staying rooted while bearing the marks of what we've survived.  

I paint objects because objects don't demand explanation. They just exist, scarred and quiet and true. And that feels right for work that comes from a place inside me that doesn't need to be loud to be heard.  

I hope you get the opportunity to see these paintings. The Lines We Draw: A Generational Toolbox (1903-present). The series encompasses four paintings: the first three establish the narrative, while the final piece serves as a figurative reclaiming of that story. In a departure from my usual technique, I used all my opaque watercolors, but in an entirely transparent manner, of course. Exploring untried color combinations with paints I rarely use was quite stimulating, and I thoroughly enjoyed the process. Like chapters in a book, the full story becomes clear once they are all seen, but to me they can stand alone as beautifully rendered truths. Back to my brushes.  

"It took me time to understand my water lillies... And then, all of a sudden, I had a revelation of the enchantment of my pond.  I picked up my palette.  Since then, I've hardly had another model."  - Claude Monet