Rooms of the Interior
These are not props. They are memory. They are mind.
Rooms of the Interior is a visual memoir disguised as domestic space. Each room is a threshold—not just architectural, but psychological. I use light, shadow, and object placement to explore the tension between containment and transformation. These aren’t just spaces to inhabit; they are fragments of self.
My professors taught me how to see—how to carve a figure from the movement of space, nothing more than an interruption in the flow of form. They taught me how to taste color and see sound, how to conduct a visual orchestra. What I learned wasn’t just technique—it was a way of being in the work, of listening to what the canvas already knows.
I draw from Beckmann’s layered symbology, Caravaggio’s light-drenched drama, van Gogh’s emotive brushwork, and Benton’s populist storytelling. Beneath all of that lives the tactile memory of studio critiques—the vibration of color in my teeth, the silence between brushstrokes.
A quiet narrative
- The window opens—an invitation to yearn.
- The lamp interrogates—shedding light on what we avoid.
- The chair becomes a body—presence and absence at once.
Though the compositions are still, they are never static. Each room hums with contradiction—grief and grace, silence and sound, motion and pause. This is not about decoration. This is about witness.
To be in these rooms is to enter a conversation with the self—one that unfolds in color, form, and the spaces between.
