Some art captures the world plainly, with little surprise. Jazz refuses this. It thrums with life that's unpredictable and alive. Not stillness, but motion. Not simplicity, but a whirl of depth.
Like jazz, my art doesn’t copy reality note for note. It bends, it plays and notices not just how things look, but how they feel in flux.
Jazz doesn’t freeze a subject and lets it breathe. Notes twist, syncopate, converse. So, too, my lines and hues: a dialogue, not a snapshot.
Dashes of color, weaving lines, spaces that hum—my work pulses with rhythm. Not rigid, not random, but a dance. A path for the eye to wander.
I want motion to shimmer, subjects to vibrate. Not just seen, but felt. And in the gaps—room for you to step in, answer back, make it yours.