Heart of the Mountain (2012)
My favorite Kiwi, Sinead, traveled all the way from New Zealand to be here for Vivian’s 21st birthday. Her two month stay here was incredible and luckily I got a chance to paint her before she left. When she asked me to do a portrait of her she suggested something elegant and beautiful. She wanted a long red dress and a bowl of fruit. I tried to explain to her that my paintings aren’t premeditated in that way, and that neither her or I will have much of a say in how it turns out.I took a picture of her to paint from and 20 minutes into painting I realized that she was going to be a mountain. I was worried at first because mountains aren’t particularly elegant, but the decision had been made and all I could do was finish it.Sinead is a nomad, she never stays in the same place for more than a year. I think I painted her as a mountain because it’s completely incongruent with her existence. Sinead is nothing like a mountain. She’s not cold, stationary, or stoic. I think I love this painting so much because looking at it lets me focus on the person Sinead is, instead of focusing on where or who she is at any given moment. 

Heart of the Mountain (2012)

My favorite Kiwi, Sinead, traveled all the way from New Zealand to be here for Vivian’s 21st birthday. Her two month stay here was incredible and luckily I got a chance to paint her before she left. 

When she asked me to do a portrait of her she suggested something elegant and beautiful. She wanted a long red dress and a bowl of fruit. I tried to explain to her that my paintings aren’t premeditated in that way, and that neither her or I will have much of a say in how it turns out.

I took a picture of her to paint from and 20 minutes into painting I realized that she was going to be a mountain. I was worried at first because mountains aren’t particularly elegant, but the decision had been made and all I could do was finish it.

Sinead is a nomad, she never stays in the same place for more than a year. I think I painted her as a mountain because it’s completely incongruent with her existence. Sinead is nothing like a mountain. She’s not cold, stationary, or stoic. I think I love this painting so much because looking at it lets me focus on the person Sinead is, instead of focusing on where or who she is at any given moment. 

Gold Eagle (2012)I gave this painting to Vivian for her 21st birthday. I went into this painting thinking that It would be named “Iron Maiden”. I wanted to show Vivian how she looks in my head. I’ve always seen her as this powerful warrior figure, an archetypal protector that steers me in the right direction.I wanted her jacket to look like a cross between a 70’s leather jacket and chain mail. I wanted her to look like Rizzo and Joan Jett mixed together. I thought Gold Eagle would be a better name for the painting after recreating makeup she had on last halloween when she went to a party as a bird. She’s a lot like a bird of prey in my eyes, regal and vicious. She’s the strongest and most elegant person I’ve ever met, and I think this painting shows that.The painting is now in the hallway facing my front door. I think it gives the house good juju. She seems to keep the bad energy out of the house. 

Gold Eagle (2012)

I gave this painting to Vivian for her 21st birthday. I went into this painting thinking that It would be named “Iron Maiden”. I wanted to show Vivian how she looks in my head. I’ve always seen her as this powerful warrior figure, an archetypal protector that steers me in the right direction.

I wanted her jacket to look like a cross between a 70’s leather jacket and chain mail. I wanted her to look like Rizzo and Joan Jett mixed together. 

I thought Gold Eagle would be a better name for the painting after recreating makeup she had on last halloween when she went to a party as a bird. She’s a lot like a bird of prey in my eyes, regal and vicious. She’s the strongest and most elegant person I’ve ever met, and I think this painting shows that.

The painting is now in the hallway facing my front door. I think it gives the house good juju. She seems to keep the bad energy out of the house. 

Two-Faced (2012)
This is a portrait of my friend Hana. This is my first try at painting a portrait of someone I know completely from memory. It was difficult, but having known Hana since kindergarten made things a bit easier. I later went back with a photo of her and corrected some technical errors, but it was surprisingly spot on considering the circumstances. The painting is called “Two-Faced” because if you cover half of Hana’s face with your hand, and then cover the other half, she has two completely different facial expressions. I hope she doesn’t think that I painted her like this because I think she’s two-faced, things like this always come after the fact. 

Two-Faced (2012)

This is a portrait of my friend Hana. This is my first try at painting a portrait of someone I know completely from memory. It was difficult, but having known Hana since kindergarten made things a bit easier. I later went back with a photo of her and corrected some technical errors, but it was surprisingly spot on considering the circumstances. 

The painting is called “Two-Faced” because if you cover half of Hana’s face with your hand, and then cover the other half, she has two completely different facial expressions. I hope she doesn’t think that I painted her like this because I think she’s two-faced, things like this always come after the fact. 

Photo base for Friday Night Girls (2010)

Photo base for Friday Night Girls (2010)

Taken with instagram

Taken with instagram

from He’ll Never Know (2011)

from He’ll Never Know (2011)

He’ll Never Know- 2011 A painting I did for my dad, of his dad and his best friend.

He’ll Never Know- 2011 A painting I did for my dad, of his dad and his best friend.

Muses- 2011I’ve been infatuated with Maurice Denis’ The Muses (Muses in the Sacred Wood)1893 ever since I saw it in person. He depicted his fiance as all of the Greek muses to express how each different side of her inspires him in a different way. The front three represent academia, religion, and romance respectively, with the others being slightly more ambiguous. Although I don’t have a fiance I do have a Vivian who I have painted many times already. Along with being my best friend and roommate she is also my main source of inspiration in my art. The painting I came up with (also titled Muses to pay homage to the original composition I borrowed) manifested as a sort of challenge for myself to break Vivian into her most basic elements like a prism would to light. I painted her nine times in iconic outfits, most of which were made by her mother. No single rendition of her in this painting is spot on, but instead an exaggeration of a side that I see of her.

Muses- 2011
I’ve been infatuated with Maurice Denis’ The Muses (Muses in the Sacred Wood)1893 ever since I saw it in person. He depicted his fiance as all of the Greek muses to express how each different side of her inspires him in a different way. The front three represent academia, religion, and romance respectively, with the others being slightly more ambiguous.

Although I don’t have a fiance I do have a Vivian who I have painted many times already. Along with being my best friend and roommate she is also my main source of inspiration in my art. The painting I came up with (also titled Muses to pay homage to the original composition I borrowed) manifested as a sort of challenge for myself to break Vivian into her most basic elements like a prism would to light. I painted her nine times in iconic outfits, most of which were made by her mother. No single rendition of her in this painting is spot on, but instead an exaggeration of a side that I see of her.

baby I can hear the sunset

baby I can hear the sunset

cottoncandyinthesky asked: your art and you and your tumblr are amazing <3

thank you so much! :D <3

Faucets in the Sky: 2011
I&#8217;ve come to the troubling realization that all of the memories I hold dearest are someday going to be gone. These memories came and went so swift that I had no chance to capture them in picture or record them on paper. Sooner than I&#8217;d like to believe I will become old and forget these incredible moments and it will be as though they never happened. Because of this realization I have started the attempt to capture some of the more important ones in paintings before I forget them. I&#8217;d like to share the one I&#8217;ve always held so much higher above the rest. 
 In highschool it wasn&#8217;t uncommon for me to be awaken in the middle of the night by Dylan. We weren&#8217;t official, per-say, but the love between us seemed to make that point moot. It was 2 a.m. and a school night (not that it made any difference) and I was to pick him up at once because there was an adventure to be had. 
 He wouldn&#8217;t tell me where we were driving. After an hour I started asking more frequently and I began to think that he didn&#8217;t know where we were going himself. Suddenly he tells me to pull over. We&#8217;re somewhere on the one, in half-moon bay I suppose, right next to the jagged coast and I very reluctantly stop the car. I had never pulled over on a freeway before, especially on the prospect of using it as a parking spot.
 We start running. I didn&#8217;t think to wear sensible shoes and the muddy ground and the overgrown plants made me want to turn back. I couldn&#8217;t see anything. The light from a nearby construction site faintly illuminated a boxy structure looming in the distance which outlined the defining coast. We approached it and he told me we were going inside. I am not one to adhere to spontaneity but I had run too far to turn back then. 
 I forget how we got in, exactly, but we managed to make our way inside the structure. It was an abandoned army bunker made during world war two to protect the coast from the Japanese. The history of the place didn&#8217;t sink in because of the late hour but just then he took out his phone and used it as a flashlight to show me the walls. They were covered in intricate graffiti art. He slowly walked around the room, letting the picture unfold as he illuminated one section at a time. He told me his friends did it all. He might have helped with some of it, I can&#8217;t remember exactly what he said.
 But the point of him bringing me here was not to see the walls. We were to go to the roof. I said no, knowing I would go regardless. I was in flip-flops and found myself scaling the side of a cliff trying to weasel my way through a hole in the building no bigger than the size of my head. I was scared half to death. At one point I handed Dylan my flip-flops and insisted I would do it barefoot because I could get better grip. 
 We made it to the roof and the sky was becoming blue. I pieced together that he wanted to watch the sunrise here with me. I also pieced together that he hadn&#8217;t factored in the fact that the sun raises in the east. We were bundled up in clothes inappropriate for how cold it was, sitting in silence, apart from each other. I forget what happened specifically but we weren&#8217;t together at that time, some fight or argument had laid a damp mood over the whole trip and after climbing to the top of this building we were forced to sit with it.
 I sat next to him. Too scared to lean on him and far too scared to ask him for warmth. He was on drugs, I thought. I should have known. I never know it seems. I always look for the best in him and assume his best intentions but I knew he was on drugs. I didn&#8217;t know which but I knew it was one of them. I didn&#8217;t care at the time as I usually would. All I wanted was to put my head on his shoulder and for him to want me to put my head on his shoulder. But if he wanted that he would have given me some sort of sign by now. There was nothing, he was trying to tell me something with his silence and with bringing me here. It was in his language  that I&#8217;ve never been able to understand.
 We were still silent. The sky kept getting brighter, but no brighter than just bright enough to see the horizon. He says to me without moving his head: &#8220;I see faucets in the sky&#8221;. I sat and I stared. I stared at that horizon for what seemed like hours. I focused on the clouds, then the ocean, an then blurred by eyes but nothing looked anything more than what was right in front of me. I couldn&#8217;t see any faucets in the sky but I desperately wanted to. He said that it looked like the rain coming down was dripping from faucets in the clouds. I hadn&#8217;t noticed the rain. I put my head on his shoulder. I can&#8217;t remember what exactly gave me the courage to do so but I did, he didn&#8217;t move, but it was enough for me.There we sat until the dim blue sky became white. 
This is a painting of what I think Dylan might have seen that morning. This will always be one of the most special, subtle, and extraordinary moments of my life.

Faucets in the Sky: 2011

I’ve come to the troubling realization that all of the memories I hold dearest are someday going to be gone. These memories came and went so swift that I had no chance to capture them in picture or record them on paper. Sooner than I’d like to believe I will become old and forget these incredible moments and it will be as though they never happened. Because of this realization I have started the attempt to capture some of the more important ones in paintings before I forget them. I’d like to share the one I’ve always held so much higher above the rest. 

In highschool it wasn’t uncommon for me to be awaken in the middle of the night by Dylan. We weren’t official, per-say, but the love between us seemed to make that point moot. It was 2 a.m. and a school night (not that it made any difference) and I was to pick him up at once because there was an adventure to be had. 

He wouldn’t tell me where we were driving. After an hour I started asking more frequently and I began to think that he didn’t know where we were going himself. Suddenly he tells me to pull over. We’re somewhere on the one, in half-moon bay I suppose, right next to the jagged coast and I very reluctantly stop the car. I had never pulled over on a freeway before, especially on the prospect of using it as a parking spot.

We start running. I didn’t think to wear sensible shoes and the muddy ground and the overgrown plants made me want to turn back. I couldn’t see anything. The light from a nearby construction site faintly illuminated a boxy structure looming in the distance which outlined the defining coast. We approached it and he told me we were going inside. I am not one to adhere to spontaneity but I had run too far to turn back then. 

I forget how we got in, exactly, but we managed to make our way inside the structure. It was an abandoned army bunker made during world war two to protect the coast from the Japanese. The history of the place didn’t sink in because of the late hour but just then he took out his phone and used it as a flashlight to show me the walls. They were covered in intricate graffiti art. He slowly walked around the room, letting the picture unfold as he illuminated one section at a time. He told me his friends did it all. He might have helped with some of it, I can’t remember exactly what he said.

But the point of him bringing me here was not to see the walls. We were to go to the roof. I said no, knowing I would go regardless. I was in flip-flops and found myself scaling the side of a cliff trying to weasel my way through a hole in the building no bigger than the size of my head. I was scared half to death. At one point I handed Dylan my flip-flops and insisted I would do it barefoot because I could get better grip. 

We made it to the roof and the sky was becoming blue. I pieced together that he wanted to watch the sunrise here with me. I also pieced together that he hadn’t factored in the fact that the sun raises in the east. We were bundled up in clothes inappropriate for how cold it was, sitting in silence, apart from each other. I forget what happened specifically but we weren’t together at that time, some fight or argument had laid a damp mood over the whole trip and after climbing to the top of this building we were forced to sit with it.

I sat next to him. Too scared to lean on him and far too scared to ask him for warmth. He was on drugs, I thought. I should have known. I never know it seems. I always look for the best in him and assume his best intentions but I knew he was on drugs. I didn’t know which but I knew it was one of them. I didn’t care at the time as I usually would. All I wanted was to put my head on his shoulder and for him to want me to put my head on his shoulder. But if he wanted that he would have given me some sort of sign by now. There was nothing, he was trying to tell me something with his silence and with bringing me here. It was in his language  that I’ve never been able to understand.

We were still silent. The sky kept getting brighter, but no brighter than just bright enough to see the horizon. He says to me without moving his head: “I see faucets in the sky”. I sat and I stared. I stared at that horizon for what seemed like hours. I focused on the clouds, then the ocean, an then blurred by eyes but nothing looked anything more than what was right in front of me. I couldn’t see any faucets in the sky but I desperately wanted to. He said that it looked like the rain coming down was dripping from faucets in the clouds. I hadn’t noticed the rain. I put my head on his shoulder. I can’t remember what exactly gave me the courage to do so but I did, he didn’t move, but it was enough for me.There we sat until the dim blue sky became white. 

This is a painting of what I think Dylan might have seen that morning. This will always be one of the most special, subtle, and extraordinary moments of my life.

Enlightenment by the Second Refill- 2010
A response painting to Joni Mitchell&#8217;s painting &#8220;Both Sides Now&#8221;, which was featured as the cover art for her album also titled &#8220;Both Sides Now&#8221;. I put my  friend Lo Smith in the painting as a substitute for Joni, and replaced Joni&#8217;s wine class for a whiskey and ginger ale (because that&#8217;s how we do it at my place). The scene takes place at the bar in my apartment (though the hanging lamp is a creative addition) and attempts to redefine drunken epiphanies as divine intervention instead of sloppy nonsense usually disregarded by the more sober people witnessing. God reaches you through a lamp at a bar or a bottle of whiskey much easier than through church-going or prayer, I think.

Enlightenment by the Second Refill- 2010

A response painting to Joni Mitchell’s painting “Both Sides Now”, which was featured as the cover art for her album also titled “Both Sides Now”. I put my  friend Lo Smith in the painting as a substitute for Joni, and replaced Joni’s wine class for a whiskey and ginger ale (because that’s how we do it at my place). The scene takes place at the bar in my apartment (though the hanging lamp is a creative addition) and attempts to redefine drunken epiphanies as divine intervention instead of sloppy nonsense usually disregarded by the more sober people witnessing. God reaches you through a lamp at a bar or a bottle of whiskey much easier than through church-going or prayer, I think.

Friday Night Girls- 2010
Yeah, those girls

Friday Night Girls- 2010

Yeah, those girls