Artist Statement

As a person that's constantly changing, my work is a reflection of that: it mirrors where I am in every stage of life, good and bad, so trying to define it often feels like an impossible task. One day I'm frustrated in front of a screen, meticulously redrawing and resizing a character's eyeball over and over with my finger glued to the undo button, all because I can't capture the proper facial expression. The next day I've abandoned the digital world entirely in favor of paper, excitedly sketching concepts for a grander piece that I know I'll be much happier with. No matter the medium, my art is always curious - it seeks to improve, morphing into new styles to try and find the one that makes the most sense for whatever it wants to accomplish. The content of my work is equal parts an exercise in design problem-solving and an exploration of visual authenticity and imperfection. How far can I push something, and when does it start looking like it belongs to only me? All of this bounces between a beat-up sketchbook, a little pink tablet, and the empty spaces of my brain, taking a new shape every moment of every day.

As I've grown, I've seen the worst the world has to offer, as many of us have. It is cruel, it is unforgiving, and it is unrelenting. I've learned to live in spite of these things, and one thing I've learned is that, even in the littlest places, there's always something beautiful to find. From the messy pencil sketch lying beneath clean, inked line art, to the way watercolor pigment fans out and darkens around the edges when you first lay it onto paper, beauty is in everything imperfect. In pursuit of this, whether I'm working digitally or traditionally, I emphasize imperfections in my drawings. I don't fully connect my lines, I exaggerate anatomy in favor of more aesthetically pleasing shapes, and I slap color in places where it doesn't make sense, all in favor of making it more interesting to look at. It's not manufactured - it's human.

These things that most people deem insignificant, I strive to make known in my work. As humans we are trained to be perfect, programmed to be boxed into neat and tidy categories that don't allow for growth or change. It is such a damaging philosophy, and for people like me, it keeps us from being authentic. Imperfection is beautiful and natural, and that is something I am constantly fighting to remember. As long as I'm alive, my art will be imperfect, ever changing, and fundamentally me; and if even one more person can see the world through my eyes and find life a little more enjoyable, I'll know I've succeeded.