I have learned to embrace commissions as collaborations, and I have been exceedingly blessed with clients who have given me complete liberty to translate the stories they've shared and the inspiration I've gathered into whichever method, medium, and imagery resonates most organically with me. It has become a joyful co-creative experience and a true honor to help clients narrate their stories, honor their loved ones, and exalt the very important things in their lives - an important reminder of what beautiful experiences and remarkable things can come about when we work together wholeheartedly. My most sincere thanks to those who have offered me a glimpse into their lives and who have given me an opportunity to transcribe these special moments and memories into the language in which I am most fluent.
With Eyes Turned Skyward, 2016, acrylic, oil, and hand embroidery on canvas, 140 x 133”
Dedicated to the children of Rising Stars Academy and beyond
Collection of Rising Stars Academy, San Jose, CA
When considering the Rising Stars Academy campus, I meditate upon the nourishment, growth, and blossoming our precious youth as they begin taking flight. Sheltered under the walnut and redwood trees that shelter the campus, a small group of children gather in wonder of the world around them. The northern California native goldfinch perches upon the cord from which leaves dangle from above, an auspicious East Indian tradition which brings blessings of prosperity and abundance. The California aster (aster, the Greek word for “star”), finds its place comfortably behind the ear of a child, its petals open to hear and to learn.
A quote by Leonardo da Vinci hovers quietly over them:
“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”
Hecho de Arcilla (Made from Clay), 2015, acrylic, ink, joss paper, ink, papyrus and resin on panel, 6 x 6” each
Collection of Maria and Camila Martinez, San Gabriel, CA
Throughout Mexico, tiles have traditionally embellished an array of public and private places, including sacred spaces such as churches and homes. The artistry of Mexican tiles roots back to the late sixteenth century, and like dynamics in the family, the individual clay tiles can come together, creating a motif of heritage and tradition. This altarpiece pays tribute to Maria’s lineage. Each unique tile is hand painted upon a collection of handwritten letters that Maria’s abuelita lovingly wrote to her.
“Clay. It's rain, dead leaves, dust, all my dead ancestors … the whole cycle of life and death.” Martine Vermeule
Love Letters, 2014, Charcoal, gouache, and ink on paper, ink on papyrus and mylar, 6 ¾ x 4 ¾” each, Collection of Thuong and Kim Anh Nguyen, Santa Ana, CA
Little Princes, the painting, 2014, Oil, ink, paper, and tree bark on canvas, Collection of Robert and Taryn Lamm, Portola Valley, CA
Little Princes, the installation, 2014, Acrylic, ink, paper, plant roots, and sand in jars, 4 1/2" h x 2" dia, Collection of Robert and Taryn Lamm, Portola Valley, CA
Family Tree, 2013, Mixed media on panel, 10 x 10” each panel of 12 panels, Private Collection, Laguna Beach, CA
It has been my honor to have had this door opened unto me, to have had this opportunity and reason to deeply research, gather, ponder, and connect with the traditions and customary rituals of India on such a personal level, and understand them through one of the languages in which I am most fluent.
Through sharing stories, reliving history, examining culture, rummaging through albums, and commemorating these tender moments captured through a wealth of photos, this family's generous participation allowed me to create for them a series of works which embodies some of the most significant milestones in their lives, while honoring the people who are closest to them.
I began my research by spending time with the family with an open heart and open ears as I (and we) wandered freely through their narratives. For weeks, albums stacked upon the studio table as I foraged through their archives, pulling hundreds of beautiful photos which I felt would help create this visual documentation. Although it was a challenge, I was finally able to narrow the expansive collection down to a couple dozen, which I then combined in order to compile them onto twelve panels.
Little Bunnies , 2013, mixed media on paper, 18 x 24", Collection of Judith A. Kaluzny, Fullerton, CA
Looking into the Future and Remembering the Past, 2013, mixed media on fiberglass, 60" l x 63" w x 39" d, Collection of Wells Fargo, San Francisco, CA
Growth (성장), 2012, mixed media on canvas, 24 x 36" each panel, Collection of the Kelly and Helen Suhr, San Francisco, CA
Mother to Mother , 2012, mixed media on canvas, 10 x 10" each panel, Collection of Mrs. Tuyet Nhung Truong, Orange, CA and Mrs. Lillian Huynh, Irvine, CA
I Am My Grandmother’s Granddaughter, 2011, oil and acrylic on canvas, 40 x 30”
Collection of Mr. Paul Saunders, San Francisco, CA
During a recent conversation with my grandmother, we discussed some of the complex relationships found in honest art – the relationships between artist and concept, artist and subject matter, the relationships between the work of art and the viewer, and therefore between artist and viewer, and the Spirit that draws Life into all of the aforementioned relationships, each playing a pivotal role in the co-creation of the piece.
Referencing a photo taken in the 1940’s, my first ever portrait of my grandmother, called Ba Ngoai (Grandmother), was painted to honor her courage, beauty and spiritual strength. While standing in front of Ba Ngoai, I shared an intimate moment with a kind-hearted gentleman as he cupped my face in his hands and said to me:
“Sweetheart, you are your grandmother’s granddaughter.”
These haunting words found their rhythm into a second portrait of my grandmother, which was commissioned by the same gentleman. Although I referenced the same photo, the face that emerged seemed to be that of my own. I was astonished to see my grandmother’s eyes staring back at me from the past, while simultaneously feeling like I was gazing into a mirror at myself.
I am my grandmother’s granddaughter.