I was born in 1971 and raised in Queens, New York, in a family that valued work, humor, and creative survival. As a teenager, I found my first voice in graffiti—painting walls and writing in the LIRR yards and Long Island City before I knew what a gallery was. That early work, unsanctioned and immediate, taught me everything about gesture, presence, and urgency.
I studied at the High School of Art and Design in Manhattan and was fortunate to attend Cooper Union’s Saturday Program, which opened doors to scholarships and opportunities abroad. I studied art history and painting in Vienna, and later in the UK, where I began weaving theory into my practice and understanding how material, memory, and critique could coexist in a single piece.
Over the last 35 years, I’ve worked between abstraction and narrative figuration. I’m drawn to repurposed materials—discarded drawings, linens, thread, pigment—things that carry a history, even if it’s stained or broken. My work is often rooted in cultural memory and critique: how we market innocence, how we brand identity, how we mistake nostalgia for truth.
I’ve shown work at Fogue Gallery in Seattle, at Domicile, and collaborated with Dinos Chapman on a 2023 site-specific installation called Mistakes Made, Nothing Learned. I’m still building the language I started on train cars all those years ago. But now, instead of spray paint, I use scars, stitches, and the soft weight of paper and discarded bed linens.