Blog: The Collector’s Muse
Why does an artist create? For love. For truth. For beauty. But often—quietly, reverently—for you.
I call this journal The Collector’s Muse because my world is shaped by the ephemeral—the flicker of light across linen canvas, the hush between brushstrokes, a glance, a gesture, a whisper of color in an unexpected place. This is where I chronicle those sacred glimpses. An intimate space. A living altar. A place where I share the evolution of my work, my creative rituals, and the questions I ask as I move paint with breath and intention.
It is written for those who live with art—not simply around it. You are the muse who inspires the work.
To step into my studio is to enter a sanctuary where legacy is created, not curated.
If you feel drawn to experience this firsthand—to collect not only a painting, but a piece of the process—I invite you to inquire about a private showing or commission your own bespoke work: a quiet where meaning unfolds beyond the canvas.
Because art is not a transaction: it is relationship. Remembering. A return.
I Don’t Worship Beauty
I Don’t Worship Beauty
Beauty Demands More: I Must Make—And I Must Collect—Art
Not art that’s decorative or ornamental—
Art that stops me cold….
Your Medium Is Your Lover
Some artists choose their medium by logic. But for me—it's feeling. Intuitive. It's the pulse in my fingertips. I choose my medium the way I choose a lover. …
“What Does Your Radiance Look Like?”
Select collectors are invited to private viewings of this new work. Request an appointment.
What Does Your Radiance Look Like?
Where is the light within you
that you’ve not yet dared to reveal?
Aesthetic Arrest: Why Civilization Cannot Exist Without Art
What was the artistic moment that first changed you?
Was it the hush before a violin's note at Lincoln Center?
The impossible blues of a Rothko in silence?
Or that moment you saw your child’s fingers dance across a piano, unsure, but divine?
Invisible Mothers: Creating Through Grief
Where is the golden child that never was? She lives here. In yarn and pigment. In stitched bone and unspoken prayers. Each year, Mother’s Day arrives like an old wound reopening.
My biological mother died when I was three, a casualty of Camp Lejeune’s poisoned waters….
The Myth of the Daily Studio
Have you heard the sermon?
"Real artists go to the studio every day."
"Consistency is king."
"If you’re not creating daily, are you even serious?"
To that, I offer a brush dipped in gold—and dipped in blood.
Color as Devotion: A New Body of Work, A New Invitation
Have you ever stood before a painting and felt your breath still—as if the color was whispering a language only your soul could understand?
These new works—born from silence, motion, and meditation, are my offering…
A Royal Return: From Entrepreneur to Eternal Artist
Because time is the new luxury—and mine now belongs only to art. There comes a moment in a sovereign life when success is no longer enough. Not when measured in numbers, but in minutes.
I had built a thriving art education business—Santa Fe Art Classes—where thousands of beautiful souls dipped their brushes into wonder for the first time…