Growing up within the vibrant tapestry of NYC, specifically Queens, during the years 1975 to 1989, I was witness to the city’s transformation into a contemporary artistic haven that rivaled even Paris in its cultural significance. The era was a melting pot of artistic energy, where creators flocked to the city to shape powerful movements that resonated far beyond its boroughs. In the midst of this effervescent scene, I found myself immersed in a realm of opulent indulgence, rubbing shoulders with both artists and the affluent elite, all basking in the heady nightlife of extravagance. It was a time when street art erupted as a force to be reckoned with, an expressive challenge to the mundane minimalism that had prevailed. I, too, embraced this rebellion, infusing the city’s canvas with vibrant colors and captivating lettering. The streets morphed into galleries, and even the trains and tenement rooftops became showcases of this dynamic movement. The very essence of my surroundings was marked by the velocity of transit, and there I stood, an observer and a participant, absorbing the messages and emotions that adorned subways and avenues in unprecedented ways. But beneath this creative explosion lay a city that was equally ruthless and untamed. Muggings and street gang confrontations were commonplace, juxtaposed against my mother’s unwavering determination to navigate life’s challenges. The city thrived on a complex interplay of art, crime, and commerce, echoing the inner struggles, fury, and disillusionment of its people.
In 1989, a pivotal moment arrived as my grandmother sold her beauty salon, prompting our move to the paradisiacal shores of San Diego, CA. The shift was transformative; a realm of palm trees, sun-kissed beaches, and a new rhythm of life awaited. From blondes to surf culture, rap music to culinary delights, everything was a revelation. I embraced the spirit of the coast, thriving as an athlete throughout high school and relishing in the endless embrace of the beach whenever I wasn’t at work or school. Life took another turn after high school, as I briefly pursued higher education until the call of the Army beckoned through a television screen. The sedentary pace of academia couldn’t satiate my thirst for action and competition, leading me to enlist in 1998.
The course of history shifted with 9/11, propelling me into the heart of conflict. Fifteen years of service later, I returned to San Diego, my experiences etched into my being, and a bachelor’s degree under my belt. Yet, reconciling my identity in a post-war world remains an ongoing challenge, one that my art earnestly grapples with. My creative expression traverses these tumultuous terrains while paying homage to my affinity for impressionism, cubism, and portraiture. The interplay of lines, colors, and composition has become my artistic lexicon, each canvas serving as a reflection of my emotional journal or a sanctuary away from chaos. Through my work, I navigate the roles of confidant and healer, inviting others to share in the narratives that define my journey.