I'm a city kid. I grew up in the shadows of elevated trains and the vibrant streets of Brook- lyn and Manhattan in the 60s. My world was shaped by the grit of back alleys, statuesque concrete and glass skyscrapers, and avant-garde ideas that chal- lenged the norms of fashion, dance, and cinema. The muted strains of a Miles Davis trumpet became my soundtrack; and modern art, bold design, and rebellion crept into my soul, igniting a lifelong passion for the drama to be found in mysterious and unexpected places. My work today is a continuation of this fascination. I’m drawn to details. hard edges, and intersections that invite the eye to journey through and beyond. The depicted spaces, though quiet and minimal, suggest lingering stories— the absence and the impact of what once was, or what could have been. It’s an ongoing rediscovery of the impressions that shaped me—rooted in the past, but constantly looking forward to what’s next.

I'm a city kid. I grew up in the shadows of elevated trains and the vibrant streets of Brook- lyn and Manhattan in the 60s. My world was shaped by the grit of back alleys, statuesque concrete and glass skyscrapers, and avant-garde ideas that chal- lenged the norms of fashion, dance, and cinema. The muted strains of a Miles Davis trumpet became my soundtrack; and modern art, bold design, and rebellion crept into my soul, igniting a lifelong passion for the drama to be found in mysterious and unexpected places. My work today is a continuation of this fascination. I’m drawn to details. hard edges, and intersections that invite the eye to journey through and beyond. The depicted spaces, though quiet and minimal, suggest lingering stories— the absence and the impact of what once was, or what could have been. It’s an ongoing rediscovery of the impressions that shaped me—rooted in the past, but constantly looking forward to what’s next.