The opening night of my solo show at Gallery MAR Carmel was awesome! I spent 5 months producing 30 paintings for the show! There was a huge turnout and we ended up selling 9 paintings that evening!

Tales of Summer - 

“Moments of Leisure Rooted in Intimacy”

My previous collection “Places Remember What People Forget” was primarily driven by a notion of nostalgia and how memories induce feelings of joy, followed by tinges of sadness, reminding us how a perception of an event is sometimes just as powerful as the experience itself.

This new collection “Tales of Summer” graduates from the ideas of longing and steps into a new direction of experiencing moments in real-time, allowing oneself to feel content and satisfied, to savor the moment and delight in the little pleasures of life. These moments can span many ways: a day spent soaking in the sun, a nap under a tree, reading a good book, a walk on the beach, taking in the sounds of nature. I want this collection to be a gentle reminder to slow down— that when you take away status, wealth, things, never-ending schedules, and to-do lists— you’re left with an exuberant life, one that can be filled with the love of self, others, and an appreciation of nature.

To me, summer is a modern allegory for freedom of choice. It’s the first instance children can sample control over their time, allowed permission to explore their surroundings, express themselves fully, and pursue their versions of happiness. They have time to discover hobbies, develop friendships, and a world beyond their families, schools, and responsibilities. Kids wander, get lost, and most importantly, experience novelty and play.

As a kid, summer was a sacred season. It marked the beginning of hot days spent at the beach, fire-pit gatherings on the sand, and sunsets that felt infinitely longer than they do now. It marked the end of school, of 4th of July barbecues and firework displays, birthday pool parties with a much-needed candy stuffed piñata and an over-frosted Costco birthday cake. It was a time of backyard gatherings and bike rides with no true destination.

Then the festivities came to a close and school returned in session. With each subsequent summer appearing shorter and shorter. Soon jobs replaced school and a shift occurred where the need for financial security replaced the necessity for leisure. The essence of summer was no longer a feeling but merely a temperature change. And just like that, almost overnight, those original traditions of summer became a myth.

In reality, summer has always lasted the same three months each year. The only difference is that I’ve gotten older. Three months to a 10-year-old feels like an eternity, yet to an old man it is as brief as an exhale. One thing seems to reign true: It is hard to grasp a childlike summer again, not because it no longer exists but because it’s hard to feel green grass with loafers on, to see a blue sky under fluorescent LED lighting, to spend time with family and loved ones while keeping up with constant emails, and looming deadlines humming around. It’s increasingly complex to have authentic conversations while using a customer service voice and censored dialogues.

My intention with this series is not to encapsulate the nostalgia of a bygone era, but to create a discussion—an opportunity to step into making time and space for “summer.” A return to childhood joys in our present-day lives. In my early twenties, I rediscovered my passion for art through designing my life around my creativity. It was only when I painfully detached myself from the umbilical cord of societal pressure that I recognized the child-like wonder of the artist inside me, scratching away, pulling at the seams, begging to be allowed a chance to exist once again. It is in this pursuit of moments of leisure, that I discovered how to feel like me again and it feels exceptional.