This gallery attempts to give context to the most special of my recent creations, each one carrying the energy of fresh beginnings. They hold the vulnerability of trying something new, the excitement of discovery, and the quiet courage of letting the canvas speak before the words are ready. Together, they form a living record of growth—art that evolves alongside me, reminding us that creation is never finished, only unfolding.
She Walks the Shore Just Past My Sight
A horizon imagined, yet somehow familiar. Color gathers like tide and memory, rising toward a shoreline I’ve never loved but can suddenly see through someone else’s joy. In the glow of this piece, the beach becomes a place of gentle distance — a world just beyond reach, where light moves softly and the ones we miss feel close enough to name.
Radiant Tide
A surge of color, bold and electric. Neon orange and pink crash through deep blue like joy in motion. In their wake, the canvas becomes a horizon unbound — a place where light drifts freely, unbothered by gravity or rules. Here, color behaves like a new kind of starlight, rising and folding in on itself, carrying the quiet promise that even the smallest spark can reshape the dark.
Intrusive Thoughts
I swore it was dry.
It wasn’t.
My fingers left trails —
like rogue neurons firing off ideas I didn’t ask for.
This piece is what happens when your brain interrupts itself,
and your dog watches from the couch,
clearly amused by your lack of impulse control.
Swirls, sparks, and clawed colors that refuse to behave.
A portrait of the mind mid‑muddle —
chaotic, vivid, and very much alive…
learning lessons the way a mind does — with a sigh.
Dom’s Axolotl &This is Theo’s Galaxy (You Just Live In It)
Ask a child what you should paint, and you’ll be handed a universe.
One pink axolotl with feathery gills and a mischievous grin.
One spiral galaxy, bold and bright, where Theo reigns supreme.
These were Christmas wishes made real — brushstrokes of imagination, signed with love.
Now part of the studio’s orbit, where whimsy and wonder hold equal gravity.
Mama Risen
A tribute to my mother, Carol, who passed on December 12th, 2025. Her favorite color was yellow—bright, warm, and full of life. In this piece, yellow rises like sunlight, while white drifts above it: a gesture toward the ethereal, the eternal, and the faith she carried.
This painting holds the ache of goodbye and the quiet belief that love continues. It’s for the woman who was “home”—who loved deeply, whose lasagna was legendary, and who will be missed beyond measure.
F#%k Cancer
The title says it all. It’s a sentiment shared by many, and one I felt deeply while painting this. I set out to make something messy—something that mirrored the chaos, the rage, the unfairness. But somehow, despite the intention, it turned out surprisingly pleasing.
This piece holds contradiction: beauty tangled in grief.
Magic in the Air
A celebration of movement, mystery, and the unseen forces that shape us. In this piece, paint stirs across the canvas—swirling like breath caught in motion.
It’s a moment suspended: the kind of magic you feel but can’t quite name.
This painting invites wonder. It’s for the days when something stirs in the air—possibility, memory, or the quiet pull of joy.
90’s Nostalgia
A swirl of memory and motion—this piece channels the chaos, color, and charm of a decade that shaped so many of us. It’s a visual mixtape: bold, unpredictable, and full of feeling.
The palette? Unintentionally perfect. I had a Charlotte Hornets starter jacket in these exact colors back then.
There’s something in the layering that echoes old cartoons, scratched CDs, neon windbreakers, and the way everything felt just a little louder.
This painting doesn’t try to explain the ’90s—it just lets them pulse through the canvas. It’s for the ones who remember, and the ones who feel it anyway.
Solace
In the swirl of gold, copper, red, and silver, this piece offered me a rare stillness—a moment of quiet amid the noise. Painted during a turbulent time, it became a kind of refuge, surprising me with its calm despite the fiery palette. At 16 x 20 inches, I am growing into larger canvases, expanding both space and confidence with each new work. It pulses with motion, yet settles into something gentle. Not unlike the kind of solace Tavi provides: steady, grounding, and full of heart.
Dragonflies at Sunset
Dragonflies have always carried special meaning in my family, especially for my sister. Over time, I’ve come to see how many others feel their presence too—whether as messengers, memories, or moments of peace, they seem to arrive just when we need them most. This painting is a swirl of sky and sea, flight and flame, capturing that fleeting magic at day’s end. It is both personal and universal, a reminder of how beauty often appears in the quiet spaces between.
