Every face holds a story, and drawing is how I slow down enough to listen. Through portraiture, I look beyond outward features to notice what makes each person unmistakably themselves—spirit. I endeavor to capture this essence to offer a quiet recognition: I see you. In the practice of drawing from life, I honor the innermost divinity. There's a sankskrit word ubiquitous among yoga practitioners of today which embodies this sentiment succinctly—Namaste.
In Bisaya, my mother‘s tongue, the word for you is KA, and the term used to refer to one's self is AKU. I was astonished to hear these familiar sounds in my study of MTU NTR —the ancient and symbolic language of Kemet —and pondered whether my mother’s native vocalizations descend from that great antiquity. There in Tameri, the land of love, KA was the name for the vital life force or spirit. AKU referred to the transformed beings who continued to exist beyond death—a term also associated with radiance/light (sunrise, the place of transformation). Seeing this similarity was illuminating, even if only a connection I’ve wishfully imagined. Perhaps its a remnant, embedded in and passed down through sound vibration, that allowed my ancestors to acknowledge and honor, in themselves and one another, the spark of light that is life animating us all.
That same attentiveness extends to place. In the desert landscape I call home, light, space, texture, and silence become ways of seeing and feeling. Through an animistic lens, my environment communicates with me—each grain of sand, plant, and creature is a manifestation of spirit possessing vast histories and hidden intelligence. In my observation of the subject I become engaged in nature’s creative power and in my art I am able to express what it awakens in me.
My studies of symbolism, archetypes, ancestry, and cultural memory lead me to consider how images and ideas carry memory, mystery, ancestral wisdom, and meaning across generations and traditions. Looking closely at people and place has deepened my awareness of the journeys, relationships, adaptations, and ways of making meaning that shape us. I seek to honor these ancestors through artistic expression, particularly of interest to me is the primordial dark mother, revered throughout the ages in many artistic forms.
Kemet is important to my personal growth and understanding. Its enduring contributions to art, architecture, writing, agriculture, science, medicine, spirituality, governance, and humanity’s relationship with nature continue to resonate. I approach this legacy with respect and curiosity, considering how its knowledge, symbols, and creative traditions still shape the wider imagination.
My inquiry also begins with my own Bisayan and American heritage. I am continually learning how these histories meet within me, ever seeking reconciliation between colliding cultures. I am listening for the stories, traditions, symbols, and visual languages carried through my family. Through portraits, landscapes, and symbolic imagery, I explore how ancestry, place, and cultural memory shape identity, belonging, and the way we see one another.
This page is a growing collection of these explorations—an ongoing effort to look closely, remember deeply, and understand how the past continues to live through the present.