Birds of Paradise

“Swiping”, 18”x24”, watercolor and acrylic ink on paper

“Refs you suck!”, 18”x24”, watercolor and acrylic ink on paper

“Beach Gossips”, 18”x24”, watercolor and gouache on paper, PRINTS HERE!

“A favor”, 18”x24”, watercolor and acrylic ink on paper

“Nirvana”, 18”x24”, watercolor and acrylic ink on paper, PRINTS HERE!

“This shlak, for $1,000?”, 18”x24”, watercolor and acrylic ink on paper, PRINTS HERE!

“Role Reversal”, 18”x24”, watercolor and acrylic ink on paper, PRINTS HERE!

“Lila and Lenu”, 12”x16”, watercolor and gouache on paper, PRINTS HERE!

“Old Friends”, 18”x24”, watercolor and acrylic ink on paper, PRINTS HERE!

“Birds of Paradise”, 18”x24”, watercolor and acrylic ink on paper, PRINTS HERE!

“Vegas”, 16”x20”, watercolor on paper, PRINTS HERE!

Birds of Paradise

As I’ve gotten older and become a parent, I’ve been thinking a lot about aging and time. I remember once flipping through old photos with my grandmother. She pointed to a picture of two teenage girls dressed up and posed for some performance. She pointed to the one on the left and said, “that’s me!” At first, I was shocked that she could recognize herself on what, to me, looked like the face of a stranger. But when I looked closer, there she was. Her unique features, though changed with age, were all there on the face of that spunky girl in the photo. It made me wonder what I would look like when I was her age, how my features would change, and how I would change. The paintings in this series are an exploration of that curiosity. 

At first glance, one might assume the women in my paintings can be easily categorized, but on closer inspection, intricate details emerge, revealing their vibrancy, texture, and complexity. I aim to challenge the widely accepted notion that aging equates to increased invisibility or the dilution of the self. Through my artwork, I celebrate the rich and captivating aspects of aging, as I've witnessed firsthand how people become more interesting, bold and authentic as they grow older. The paintings serve as a visual manifestation of the future I envision for myself.

I heard recently that parenting is about training your replacement. One day I was a two-year old, and then on another day I was a mom. On another day in the future I’ll probably be a grandmother flipping through old photos with my grandchild, point at one and say, “that’s me!”. And then on another day, I’ll be gone and my replacement will continue the cycle.