paintings

PAINTINGS

The Trophy Series

In a world where worth is often measured by proximity to power, beauty, or fame, humans have become trophies—objects of validation and status symbols for one another. This series of paintings delves into the subtle, often unspoken need to use others to feel seen, validated, and worthy.

Whether consciously or not, we are drawn to the brilliance of those around us in hopes their light might illuminate our shadows: a celebrity friend, a beautiful partner, a prodigy child—all carefully chosen to elevate our image.

Each painting tells a story of a life shaped, and sometimes distorted, by being placed on someone else’s pedestal. The artist invites us to question the fragile scaffolding we build to hold up our sense of self, and its impact on those affected.

Trophy # 1 “Gia”

35 x 50 inches. (89 x 127 cm)

Acrylic and mixed media on canvas

Gia’s story:

“I was 26 when I met him—charming, older, insanely wealthy. He offered me a life most people only dream about: designer clothes, private jets, luxury, everything. All I had to do was look pretty and stay by his side. At first, it felt like a fairytale. But now I’m 46, and looking back, it feels more like a trade. I gave up my ambitions, my potential, my voice—bit by bit. I used to dream of building something of my own, of being known for more than just how I looked. But I got comfortable. Comfortable in the soft trap of luxury. I don't regret everything—there were beautiful moments—but sometimes it feels like I sold my soul for security. And now, with time slipping by, I wonder who I could’ve been if I’d chosen differently. I wonder if being adored was ever worth more than becoming me.”

Trophy # 2 "Shoot me, I'm famous"

68 x 60 inches. (172 x 152 cm)

Acrylic and mixed media on canvas

Michelle’s story:

“Honestly, sometimes it feels like I’m just a prop in my own life–admired, captured, posted—but never truly seen. People want to be near me so they can feel more important. But why? I’m not important. It’s like they’re trying to grab a piece of my world, hoping some of the shine will rub off. And yeah, social media has played a huge part in getting to where I am, but it also turned relationships into something weird and transactional. A selfie with me, or a comment from my account, even a tag at some exclusive event—suddenly, those things are treated like trophies. People collect them like proof of status. And honestly, it’s exhausting. Real connection gets lost in this mess of performance and image. Sometimes I wonder if they care about me at all, or just what being seen with me does for them. It's hard to tell the difference anymore.”

Trophy # 3 "Elizabeth"

30 x 40 inches (76 x 102 cm)

Oil and ink on canvas

Elizabeth's story:

"When I was young, I didn’t just want a job—I wanted a career. I wanted to break glass ceilings, walk into boardrooms like I belonged, and prove I could lead in a man’s world. While many of my friends were talking about marriage and children, I was chasing promotions, working late, and pushing myself harder than anyone else. Eventually, I made it—I became the CEO of a large publicly traded company at a fairly young age.

It wasn’t easy. I had to fight for every ounce of respect in rooms full of people who doubted me. But I earned it. And I earned my own respect, too.

There’s so much pride in that. But if I’m honest, there’s also loss. I never had children. I never built a family of my own. Back then, you couldn’t be both—a mother and a top executive—without giving something up. I chose the ladder. I chose ambition. And yes, some nights that choice still aches.

Now, at 60, I see my life with pride and perspective. I think of myself as a different kind of trophy—not objectified, but earned. I hope young women look at me and think, “It’s possible.” Because it is. And maybe that’s my real legacy."

The hug Series

The series captures the fleeting, powerful language of human connection through the simple act of a hug. Each painting in the series explores a different emotional layer—joyful bursts of reunion, the awkward distance of unfamiliar touch, the deep stillness of long, meaningful embraces, and the quiet sorrow of parting. These moments, though brief, pulse with emotional weight. Through color, gesture, and composition, the artist reveals how a hug can speak volumes, offering comfort, expressing longing, or even shielding unspoken truths.

This body of work invites the viewer to slow down and witness the silent stories shared in an instant—those small yet profound exchanges that shape our lives without words.