Index
More Than Expression
This portfolio isn’t just a mix of artwork—it’s a reflection of how I process the hard stuff: identity, emotion, memory, and the mess in between.
Each piece marks a real moment in my life—something felt, questioned, or confronted. I don’t make art to decorate. I make it to dig. To explore the parts of ourselves we tend to ignore or cover up.
Jung’s concept of the Shadow shows up a lot in my work—not as a theory, but as lived experience. I use color, symbol, texture, and contrast to explore what happens when we stop pretending we’ve got it all figured out.
This isn’t about making things look nice. It’s about making things feel real.
If something in the work makes you pause, lean into that. The part that resists is probably the part that needs your attention.
You-Do-You Voodoo™ Art Dolls
These aren’t toys. They’re talismans.
Each You-Do-You Voodoo™ doll is a fierce little altar wrapped in yarn and truth. Handmade with intention, they don’t sit quietly on a shelf. They’re built to witness.
These dolls carry your shadow and your sovereignty. They don’t promise healing—they dare you to claim it by embracing every cracked and holy part of yourself.
Vulnerability isn’t weakness here. It’s a power source.
You don’t have to believe in magic for them to work. Just believe that you deserve to come back to yourself.
Paintings
These paintings haunt, hold, and heal me. Each brushstroke is a conversation between what’s seen and what’s suppressed. I paint not to escape emotion, but to enter it fully. Joy and grief live side by side here, not competing, just coexisting—like they do in real life. Light isn’t purity. Shadow isn’t sin. They’re both necessary. Both sacred.
These works are visual thresholds. They don’t hand you answers. They ask better questions. What are you still carrying? What are you refusing to feel? What beauty are you withholding from yourself because you think you have to earn it?
This is art for anyone who’s ready to feel more—not less.
Drawings
These drawings are slow spells—cast in graphite, born in silence.
They’re meditations on what I’d rather not say out loud. Every mark is a negotiation between chaos and clarity, between my unconscious and the version of me that shows up in public.
I don’t sketch what I see. I sketch what won’t leave me alone.
These pieces ask you to linger. To hear what’s underneath. They invite stillness. Reflection. And if you’re paying attention, you might just see something familiar staring back—something you’ve buried, something waiting.
They don’t shout. But they don’t whisper, either.
Digital Art & Photographs
My lens doesn’t chase spectacle—it catches the quiet things that shape us. A chipped mug. A shadow falling just right. The curve of a shoulder in bad light. These aren’t just snapshots. They’re soft truths caught mid-breath. Symbols disguised as the mundane.
Photography, for me, is about presence. About seeing what we usually ignore and asking: What does this say about who I am right now? Every image becomes a mirror. Every ordinary moment becomes myth when we finally stop to look.
Transformation isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s in the way the light hits your kitchen floor.
Miscellaneous Art
This is where the weird lives—and the wisdom too.
These pieces don’t fit neatly into categories, and that’s the point. From altar-worthy home decor to unruly mixed media experiments, this collection holds the work that breaks form so it can speak more freely. Unexpected materials. Strange pairings. Symbols you don’t see coming.
Each creation is designed to make you pause—not just to admire, but to wonder. What does this stir in me? What part of me recognizes this?
It’s not random. It’s ritual in disguise. Curiosity is the spell. Interpretation is the initiation.
Welcome to the in-between.
Why Explore My Art?
This portfolio is a survival record.
Every piece you see here came from the trenches: grief, growth, reckoning, and repair. My art is the artifact of a life spent turning fragmentation into form. It’s a visual archive of what it means to face your shadow and not flinch. Of what happens when you stop performing and start remembering.
Whether it’s the bold defiance of a painting or the quiet ache of a pencil line, each piece is built to reflect you as much as me. Your losses. Your longings. Your becoming.
This isn’t therapy. But it is therapeutic—if you let it be.
You don’t have to make sense of it. You just have to feel it.
So linger. React. Resist. Come back to what pulls at you.
This is your invitation to use art—not just to look at, but to feel through.