The Story Behind: The Purpose
Art is more than just a creative outlet—it’s the core of who I am, the language I use to connect with the world and with myself. Every piece I create holds a purpose, a fragment of my soul laid bare for others to see. It’s intimacy captured in color, a rebellion against societal norms, a mirror reflecting self-love, and a means to leave my mark on eternity. These purposes drive me to paint, to create, to pour every ounce of my being into my work. Through my art, I explore, celebrate, and share the truths that define my existence. This is why I paint. This is The Purpose.
The Purpose: Act of Intimacy
Creativity and intimacy are deeply intertwined, each sparking the same fire within us. For me, art becomes an extension of touch—a brushstroke carrying the same intention as lips on skin. My desire for the subject drives my hand, the paintbrush becoming a stand-in for the closeness I crave. Every curve, fold, and blemish becomes an object of fascination, a study in devotion. When my hands cannot reach the flesh they long for, they create instead. My art mirrors the same goal I have in intimacy: to make someone feel desired, seen, and fulfilled. It’s an act of seduction through color and shape, an unspoken love letter. When words fail me, my creations speak, revealing every longing, every ache. Painting is not just an act of creation—it’s the purest form of making love.
The Purpose: Normalize the Taboo
I’ve always seen the world differently. Whether from the open-mindedness instilled by my upbringing or the unique lens of my autism, I’ve never understood the limits society places on what’s “acceptable.” Nudity. Desire. Sex. These are primal, ancient truths of humanity, yet we’ve been conditioned to hide and fear them. My art exists to challenge that. To strip away shame and censorship and reveal the beauty in what is often called obscene. By painting the intimate and the forbidden, I hold a mirror to humanity, asking us to confront our discomfort and see it as art. The more we look, the less we shy away. The more we admire, the less we judge. I want my art to normalize what’s natural, celebrate what’s condemned, and show the beauty in what we were once told to call ugly.
The Purpose: Become Immortal
They say you don’t truly die until the last memory of you fades away. That idea terrifies me—the thought of disappearing completely, forgotten by time. But art is my answer to that fear. Through my creations, I become eternal. I want my name to echo through generations, my work living in homes, whispered about, passed down. I want the emotions my art evokes to resonate long after I’m gone, weaving themselves into the lives of people I’ll never meet. My brushstrokes are my legacy, my immortality. Even when I draw my final breath, Jack Ghostel will continue to exist. Through my art, I won’t just live—I’ll transcend.
The Purpose: Influence Confidence
Years ago, a friend told me my art changed how she saw herself. She told me she felt beautiful—like art. That moment is etched in my mind, shaping my purpose as an artist. I paint to inspire self-love and confidence, to help people see the beauty in their bodies. My work reflects the divinity in each person, stripping away insecurities and replacing them with awe and appreciation. When someone looks at a piece of my art and sees themselves in it, I want them to feel proud, powerful, and divine. Even if I never achieve fame, knowing my work has uplifted someone’s self-image is enough. My art exists as a mirror—not one that distorts, but one that celebrates the truth. Through my creations, I want people to see the gods they truly are.
The Story Behind: My True Muse
The Story Behind
My True Muse & Our Cautionary Tale
These days, the word “muse” is tossed around lightly. To inspire a few pieces or pose for a handful of photos is often enough to earn someone the title. They’re a spark, a fleeting moment of motivation. But every so often, an artist encounters something rare, something extraordinary: a true muse. This is not just a source of inspiration—this is a revelation. A muse like this doesn’t simply inspire art; they are the art. They become the prism through which an artist’s light refracts, casting vibrant, kaleidoscopic visions that transcend mere creation.
To the artist, this muse becomes everything: life, love, purpose, and obsession. It’s intoxicating—a symphony of devotion and inspiration. But what happens when this fragile relationship isn’t nurtured? When the muse sees the artist as nothing more than a stepping stone? What happens when the artist’s fervor is met with indifference? This is a tale I know all too well.
2016 was a year of upheaval for me—a time of transformation and uncertainty. I had just hosted my first art show and was left directionless. The medium I’d dedicated five years to had grown stale; I’d fallen out of love with my craft. Without an outlet for my creativity, the world around me dulled, greying like an overcast sky. I dabbled in music, poetry, and writing, searching for something to fill the void. Photography emerged as a fleeting diversion, a pastime that hinted at the joy I once felt but never fully recaptured it.
Then came the shoot that changed everything. A friend I’d met at a Halloween party agreed to model for me. It was nothing unusual—I often photographed friends who’d never posed before, finding beauty in their unfamiliarity with the lens. My makeshift studio was nothing more than a cleared space in my childhood home. It was ordinary. It was routine. Until it wasn’t.
What I witnessed through that lens defied description. A timid girl transformed into a goddess before my eyes, each frame a glimpse into something otherworldly. My heart faltered, caught in the gravitational pull of her presence. Time dissolved. In that moment, I wasn’t just taking photos—I was standing at the altar of creation itself, granted an audience with something divine.
The hours we spent together felt infinite, yet they slipped away as quickly as they came. Afterward, we reviewed the shots together. Both of us saw something in those images we hadn’t seen before. For me, it was the rekindling of a lost flame. For her, it was a newfound confidence that began to heal old wounds.
From that day on, we became collaborators. I expressed my desire to photograph only her, and she, too, found solace in our work. She became my muse in every sense of the word. But this wasn’t just inspiration—it was obsession. My love for art returned, but it was no longer rooted in the craft itself. It was centered on her.
To capture her essence, I ventured into uncharted territory. Digital painting felt soulless, incapable of honoring the divinity I saw in her. So, I turned to watercolor—a medium as delicate and unpredictable as she was. The vibrant hues, the soft edges, the way pigments danced on paper—it was perfect. Through watercolors, I found a way to immortalize her. Every piece I created was a reflection of her beauty, her presence, her influence.
Even when my art strayed from depicting her directly, she remained its core. My ethereal, celestial style was born from those attempts to capture her essence. Every godlike figure I painted, every soft, dreamlike image—they all traced back to her.
But as the months passed, our bond grew complicated. What began as a partnership of mutual inspiration turned into something unbalanced. I poured my devotion into her, elevating her to a pedestal so high she became my entire world. She basked in the attention, rebuilding her confidence from the ruins left by others, while I mistook my infatuation for love.
Then came the breaking point.
I left town for a work trip, and when I returned, something was different. She seemed distant, her attention diverted. Soon, I learned she’d started seeing someone else. It crushed me. How could the person I’d worshipped so completely choose another? And worse, she began working with another photographer. For someone who had never known jealousy, I felt it now, sharp and unrelenting.
I tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy, but the cracks were showing. Our dynamic shifted. I stopped treating her like a goddess and began treating her like any other friend. The pedestal crumbled, and with it, our bond. She noticed the change, and it unsettled her. In our final argument, I admitted the truth: I had been obsessed, but I could no longer live under that illusion. It was a drastic shift that she did not take well. Our whirlwind of collaboration and connection ended abruptly. Nearly a decade has passed, and we’ve never spoken since.
Though our time together ended in pain, I remain grateful. She reignited my passion for art and taught me lessons about obsession, jealousy, and letting go. Her influence lingers in every piece I create, every brushstroke and photograph. Even this very website exists because of her. She was a muse, a cautionary tale, and a turning point in my life. While I no longer own the artwork I created of her, the memory of that time remains etched in my mind—a bittersweet reminder of the power and peril of devotion.
The Story Behind: Returning To Art
My complicated relationship with art has brought many heartbreaking moments but at the same time has saved me from myself so many times. Its taken me a long time to get over my hardest heartbreak with art but I am here now. Here to try to make the life I always wanted through my art. I have to make it work, because I feel like this is all that I have left.
The Story Behind: Jack's Lucid Nightmare Show
Ah, group shows. Those glittery, nerve-wracking playgrounds where artists either soar or get politely ignored while sipping boxed wine. I’d survived a few—some magical, others… educational. But in 2016, I decided to flip the script. Why wait for a solo show when I could host my own glorified meltdown?
This wasn’t just any show. This was a full-blown exorcism of my demons, curated by me, starring me, and fueled by a year of bad decisions, worse relationships, and a growing hatred for my tablet. (RIP, Wacom Bamboo. You were a plastic prison.)
Let’s set the scene. From 2009–2016, I was a digital art machine. Commissions? Done. Endless screen time? A given. But over time, my tablet started feeling less like a tool and more like a soul-sucking office job. The magic faded. Every click felt like filing taxes. My solution? Swapping pixels for a camera. Photography became my creative defibrillator—suddenly, I wasn’t chained to a desk, and actual sunlight existed. Wild.
But my personal life? A dumpster fire. My love life was a revolving door of “situationships,” my mental health was a Jenga tower, and my art felt…meh. Enter my chaotic fairy god friend, who peered at my sad apartment “shows” and kept pushing me to take the leap and do something bigger. I resisted. The idea of putting myself out there on a grander scale felt overwhelming. Sure, I had some internet clout from blog sites, but could that translate into an actual audience?
Pre-influencer era. Zero plan. Maximum panic. I found a loft space in Williamsburg (the kind of deal that feels impossible in today’s market) and decided to rent it out.
Initially, I thought I’d show my photography and invite some admired artists, like LaVonnia Christiana and Natalie Pujols. But when Natalie asked me what the theme was, I froze. I had no answer. I needed to dig deeper.
This was my show—my chance to do anything. After some soul-searching, it hit me: I’d make this show about my inner world. Why not turn my mind into a walkable exhibit? Lucid Nightmare was born: a trippy, no-holds-barred tour of my id, ego, and questionable life choices. I wanted to invite people into the chaos of my mind, the unspoken struggles, and the pain I carried silently. It would be raw, dark, and unapologetic.
The loft had an extra room, so I decided to use it to create different “zones” of my mind. I crafted photoshoots and returned to my Wacom tablet for one last hurrah, illustrating my pain, my love for my friends, my vices, and my lust. The show would be my nightmares come to life—but under my control.
The entrance was a glimpse at my surface-level thoughts: art from friends, a video I shot and edited on loop, and a general sense of emotional weight. The main room was where things got deeper. I displayed art and photography that represented fears, failed relationships, and past influences. There was even a bar stocked with drinks and, let’s just say, other indulgences—because those were my vices at the time.
The extra room? That was my temple of lust. Fog machines filled the air, sexual imagery adorned the walls, and yes, there was even a bed. It was an intimate, slightly unsettling space that mirrored my inner turmoil and recklessness.
The loft was supposed to hold 75 people, maybe 100 if we stretched it. Over 200 showed up. The space was packed with friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers. The energy was electric, overwhelming, and at times, chaotic.
The police came to shut us down twice. Luckily, no one got arrested—though a few people did catch tickets for drinking outside. I spent the night running around trying to manage the madness, but in the end, it was everything I didn’t know I needed.
That night was more than an art show. It was a rebirth. Shortly after, I moved on to watercolor, met my muse, and dove into a new phase of my artistic journey. “Lucid” became a recurring theme in my work. Today, my projects fall into three categories:
Lucid Nightmare: Artwork exploring pain and darkness.
Lucid Wet Dreams: Art fueled by lust and desire.
Lucid Daydreams: Whimsical, imaginative, and lighthearted creations.
Moral of the story? Sometimes you gotta host a public meltdown to find your spark. And if the cops show up, you’re definitely doing something right.
The Story Behind: Infatuation
Art can be many things—a mirror reflecting the artist’s soul, or a map leading to something the artist didn’t even know they were searching for. Lucid Wet Dreams: Infatuation was absolutely the latter for me. At a time when desire felt like a distant memory, this project became a way to thaw out the ice that had taken hold of my passions. It was deeply personal, yet I made the bold choice to put my private thoughts and cravings on public display.
But let me back up, because this project didn’t exactly start out this way. Like most things in life, it had a rocky and somewhat chaotic beginning.
The first iteration of this project was supposed to be a modern twist on my earlier watercolor series, Her Lips, His Eyes. The concept was simple: I’d revisit past experiences with partners, crafting each piece as if it were a text message written directly to them. To accompany these “modern letters,” I planned to create art inspired by scenes from various adult films, with fully painted women contrasted against sketched-out male figures. It was raw, provocative, and, in hindsight, doomed from the start.
Why? Because social media loves drama, and I underestimated its power to twist narratives. When I teased the project with some mock text messages, they looked a little too real. People thought I’d actually sent these biting, emotionally charged messages to unsuspecting women. Some got it—art is art—but the internet doesn’t do nuance. The backlash was swift, and my carefully crafted narrative spiraled out of control.
To make matters worse, the art itself didn’t sit right with me. The painted and sketched figures clashed in ways I couldn’t resolve, and my personal life complicated things even further. Reconnecting with an ex and starting a new relationship made revisiting old flames feel, well, awkward. So, I scrapped the whole thing and moved on—or so I thought.
Fast-forward to the end of that relationship, and I found myself in a dark place. My sex drive was nonexistent, and I lacked the emotional maturity to figure out why. I just knew I wanted to feel something again. A conversation with someone I’d once shared a fiery connection with lit a small spark, and I realized I needed an outlet. That’s when I stumbled upon the remnants of my failed project.
This time, things were different. My skills had improved, my painting style had evolved, and I had a clearer vision. I decided to rebuild the project from the ground up.
The art took center stage this time. I drew inspiration from women who had stirred that intense, undeniable feeling of lust in me. The sketches of adult scenes became the background—an idea sparked by the women in the paintings, rather than the main focus. The painted figures now took precedence, with a splash of color nodding to my previous projects. Suddenly, everything clicked.
The writing, too, shifted. It wasn’t about past experiences anymore; it was about the raw, unfiltered desires these individuals inspired in me. No sugarcoating. No holding back. I set the mood—images of these muses on my TV, dim lighting, a clear mind—and let my feelings pour out. In those moments, I wasn’t crafting a project; I was confessing truths I’d never dared to speak.
I even invited anonymous submissions and included a few pieces written about me. It added another layer to the project—desire as both giver and receiver.
Once the writing was done, I paired it with the artwork. Some pieces reflected the same person; others combined different desires that fit together like puzzle pieces. The result was stunning. It didn’t reignite my passion in the way I’d hoped—many of those desires faded before the project was even finished—but the process was cathartic, and the final product was beautiful.
To this day, Lucid Wet Dreams: Infatuation remains my favorite project. It wasn’t perfect, and it didn’t fix everything, but it taught me something invaluable: art doesn’t have to solve your problems. Sometimes, it’s enough for it to just exist—and to remind you that you’re still capable of feeling something, even when everything else feels numb.
View the entire project HERE
News | 2.6.25 : Art Show Tour
Hello everyone! Taking this time to announce that I will be doing a few art shows in the next few months. Its time I go back to showing everyone the beautiful art I have created in person.
Greenpoint Gallery, Feb. 7th (FREE SHOW)
390 McGuinness Blvd, Brooklyn, NY 11222heART &Aerial, Feb. 22nd ( TICKETS HERE )
Kearny, New JerseyArt Groove, March 8th, (Tickets Available Soon)
260 W 36th Street, New York, NYRAW Artist: Philadelphia, April 12th (Tickets Available Soon)
Location TBA
A possible show with Art Groove in April or June as well. More events will be added in the future. I am looking forward to seeing you all at the shows.
The Story Behind: Sorry
Let’s get one thing straight: Art isn’t born from Pinterest-perfect moments. It’s forged in chaos. Think dishonesty, bad decisions, and the kind of heartbreak that makes you blast sad songs until your neighbors bang on the wall. Let me take you back to the messy, cringe-worthy, weirdly beautiful storm that birthed two of my most iconic paintings—and the personal revolution they forced me into.
Picture this: a cramped Brooklyn apartment. Fall leaves outside, frosty silence inside. My (now-ex) girlfriend sits on my bed, arms crossed, as 6lack’s East Atlanta Love Letter oozes from my speakers like a moody soundtrack. We’d just had the fight—the kind where “I’m sorry” feels useless and every word digs the hole deeper. Our issues? My immaturity. My sketchy choices. My art—which she called “avoidance,” and I called “therapy.”
Normally, painting while she read or scrolled was our thing—”parallel play”, cozy as sweatpants. But that day? The vibes were radioactive. So, what did I do? I started painting a man drowning. Subtle, right?
Every brushstroke screamed what I couldn’t say aloud: ”I’m sinking.” Between us? A minefield of white lies, half-truths, and my desperate attempts to “keep the peace” (avoid accountability). The more I layered blues and grays, the more she unraveled. By the time the canvas dried, she was gone. And honestly? Good for her.
But here’s the plot twist: That angsty painting blew up. Like, ”Can I Venmo you for a custom drowning guy??” blew up. It sold prints, got featured, even stolen at a show once (shoutout to the chaotic art thief who lowkey validated me).
Funny thing, though—I hated it. To me, it wasn’t art. It was a receipt for every time I’d failed—as a partner, a man, an artist. A reminder I wasn’t “talented enough,” just trauma-dumping in watercolor.
Life’s weird. That ex? We’re cool now—actual friends, no toxicity. The drowning man painting? Still hangs in strangers’ homes, still haunting me. But six years later, I finally faced the canvas again. This time? No lies. No sinking. Just growth.
I remade the piece with sharper lines, bolder colors, and a figure not drowning but rising—still flawed, but fighting. This version? I hung it in my room. No shame, no cringe. Just pride.
That first painting wasn’t “bad.” It was raw. Unfiltered. A time capsule of who I was—so I could meet who I am. Turns out, people don’t connect with “perfection.” They connect with the ugly, awkward, “human” stuff we’re all hiding.
So, to every artist cringing at their old work: keep it. Let it remind you that growth isn’t pretty. It’s messy, uncomfortable, and loud—like a 6lack album on repeat at 2 a.m.
And hey—if your chaos inspires someone to Venmo you? Bonus.
*P.S. If you see a suspiciously familiar drowning man painting in a Brooklyn thrift store…let me know, I got hands ready for someone*
Jack Ghostel x Lady Toro Collab
I had the pleasure of doing some designs for one of NYC’s premiere dominatrix, Lady Toro. We have a few more designs in the cut so expect more. So all the subs, paypigs, cucks, sissies, and fans head over to her shop.
The Story Behind: Natural Mess
Some paintings tell stories, but a rare few are the story. For me, Natural Mess is one of those rare pieces—a work of art that spans my entire watercolor journey. It’s a tale of triumph and heartbreak, growth and loss, pain and renewal. Walk with me as I retrace its winding path.
It began during a charity art show I’d been invited to participate in. In the chaos of setup, I decided to work on a new painting right there at the venue—a bold choice since I’d never painted in front of people before. The brushstrokes came together quickly, almost like the piece had been waiting to escape my soul. By the time the show opened, the painting wasn’t even dry, its edges curling slightly from the wetness. It was raw, imperfect, yet beautiful.
I didn’t intend to sell it. Usually, I like to live with my art for a while—admire it, learn from it, understand it fully. But as I sat in a corner with the still-wet painting, a woman approached, captivated by what she saw. She asked if she could buy it. My instinct was to say no, but this was a charity event, and her enthusiasm was undeniable. So, I named a price, and she paid it directly to the event staff. Just like that, she took the painting home, still damp with my fingerprints.
The joy of helping the cause should have been enough, but I couldn’t shake the emptiness that followed. I hadn’t even had time to appreciate the painting for what it was. All I had was a single photo of it. The loss gnawed at me for months.
A year later, I decided to reclaim that feeling. The original was inspired by a follower on Twitter, so I turned to her best friend for the new version. I wanted the second painting to have a deep connection to the first, almost like siblings. This time, I made a solemn promise: I would never sell it. This painting would stay with me until the very end of my life. That vow, as it turns out, would shape my life in ways I never could have imagined.
Fast forward two years. The world shut down as a pandemic swept through, and like so many others, I had to adapt. I moved in temporarily with my on-again, off-again partner, leaving the painting—my most cherished piece—at her place for safekeeping.
When that relationship unraveled, it did so violently. Without diving too deep into the pain of it, I’ll say this: recovering the painting became a mission. Leaving it behind wasn’t an option. I knew I couldn’t trust its safety in her hands.
What followed was a battle of wills. Ownership of the painting became a flashpoint in our final, heated argument. The painting symbolized something deeper for both of us, and neither was willing to concede. When I finally retrieved it, the confrontation turned physical. Bruised and shaken, I left with the painting clutched tightly in my hands, knowing I’d made the right choice.
In the aftermath, I learned that the other pieces I’d left behind—sketches, paintings, creative fragments of my soul—had been burned. Destroyed. They were lost forever. But Natural Mess survived. It was worth every bruise, every tear.
Two more years passed. With time, therapy, and the love of a healthier life, I healed. Now, in my new home, the second version of Natural Mess hangs proudly—a symbol of resilience, growth, and everything I’ve endured.
But the story wasn’t finished. I knew it was time to revisit the piece one final time. The first painting marked the beginning of an era. The second, created during my artistic prime, was its peak. And now, as I reflect on the journey, I feel ready to close this chapter with a new version that represents an ending.
Natural Mess isn’t just a painting. It’s a part of me, a testament to survival, creativity, and the power of holding on to what matters most.
The Story Behind: The Wink
I’m thrilled to announce a new exclusive series for this site: The Story Behind. This weekly series will dive deep into the origins of my paintings, offering an intimate, behind-the-scenes look at how each piece came to life. These stories will uncover the inspiration, process, and unexpected twists that shaped the work—and sometimes, how the world responded to it.
To kick things off, the first painting was chosen at random, and it’s one that holds a wild and hilarious backstory. Let me reintroduce you to…
Backshots: The Wink
Part of the “Backshots” duo, The Wink is also tied to a secret series I started in 2020, featuring a close friend of mine. It began with a full-body commissioned painting of her, which quickly evolved into a series capturing various parts of her body. By the time this piece came to life, I’d already painted nearly all of her. Naturally, we joked about what was “left,” and she teased that her butthole was next. A little later, she actually sent me a reference photo—and it was too funny not to paint.
I didn’t think this piece would garner much attention. My audience, largely women, didn’t seem like the crowd for something as cheeky (pun intended) as The Wink. But art has a funny way of surprising you.
One morning, I woke up to a flood of notifications—hundreds of new followers and messages across all my socials. Confused but curious, I soon discovered the source: a host on Barstool Sports’ The Yak had mentioned my work during a segment. For entertainment’s sake, he massively oversold the “wildness” of my page, but that 5-minute shoutout caused an explosion of interest.
It completely changed the landscape of my following—from 96% women to 64%—and catapulted The Wink to become my most-loved painting. Its prints outsell anything else I’ve made, and I like to joke that it’s probably the only one of my works proudly displayed in homes across middle America.
So, there you have it—the unconventional, hilarious, and slightly scandalous story behind The Wink. Stay tuned for next week’s entry, where I’ll pull back the curtain on another piece.
What did you think of The Wink’s story? Let me know in the comments—I’d love to hear your thoughts!
La Isla's Son Painting Video
Trying to at least update with as content as I can.
Watch Me Paint
Its been a while since I uploaded a video on here. Now that it doesn’t need to be outside sourced I can just upload some of my favorite videos. Definitely makes me want to make more. More soon to come then
New Project Participation
Hello everyone!
I am happy to announce that I will finally be working on a personal art project this year. This project has actually been in the works for a year now. It was actually halfway completed before I ended up scrapping the entire project due to my mental state at the time.
Those unfamiliar with the project, it was called Lucid Wet Dreams: Desires. It was supposed to be the first of many “Lucid” projects I had planned. The project, like many of my other ones, are based on real feelings and emotions. This time it is centered on my personal desires. I would create a faux message expressing my desire to be intimate with them then create artwork to accompany it.
This time around I would like to add a new element to it. I would like the counter desire. I would want half of the project to be my desires and half of it to be the desires of others for me. I know its kind of wild, but I like making all my projects personal to me and others. Below is a form you can fill out. You can state your Name or alias (which one be used in the project publicly) and creatively write down your desire to be intimate. This is the only way I could give the option to be anonymous. I will also post one of the messages that I will use in the project to give you an idea of how it will look. Thank you to those participating and those who anticipate the finished project.
Sunshine Behind The Grey Skys
While many of us find ourselves stuck indoors due to this worldwide pandemic, I have been lucky enough to use this time to create. I will admit, balancing work and creating was a task I was not doing all too well. Now I found myself being about to create more than I have in the last few years. Thanks to the support of many fans and friends, I have been able to support myself with my art since I am no longer working. Now I am back, fully invested in this like I was a few short years ago.
In terms of news, printing will not be handled by a trusted third party. Since going out and printing myself is far to risky in the current world. Orders will processed and shipped straight from the printing company. Less hands in the process and they will make sure its safer to sell than a regular print shop.
RAW Artist Showcase
I will be presenting my artwork at the next RAW art show. If you haven’t heard of RAW, they are an organization that has don’t over a 1000 shows around the world. They showcase underground talent and provide eyes for artist looking to make a name for themselves. Its a pleasure to be apart of their next event in Brooklyn, NY. I will be showing my new project as well as selling tons of prints and originals.
Click the link below to buy tickets and support
[Show me proof of purchase and I will send you print package will three prints inside of it]
New Time Lapse Video
So i decided to do more videos of myself painting. I hope you enjoy them!
Daily Grind NYC
I will be featured in one of Kadija Zuniga's gallery shows this month. I absolutely love her events. Always such a chill vibe and great time to meet many artist and make connections. I will have plenty of art to sell here and of course my usual gallery show give aways. Come support many talented artist (visual and performing) and tell me you think I'm pretty lol.
Tickets HERE
ESCAPE2NY!! BACK AGAIN!
Happy to announce that I will be showcasing my work at ESCAPE2NY once again. These are some of my favorite events to be apart of. I will be showing my a new set of pieces from the Licentious Project. If you have never been to one of these events, I highly suggest you do. Always tons of fun and so many great artist show up. Come meet me or see me again.
Tickets HERE
Paint and Chill
I will be showcasing my artwork at the very dope event, Paint and Chill. This event sponsored by Homegrown is one of my favorite events to be in. Everyone who comes get a small canvas to vibe out with and paint on. A few talented and performers will be there showing you their talents so come out to paint and chill (roll credits). buy tickets HERE