Afrocentric Art

So much of the art made about Black women feels strangely empty to me. It reaches for power but lands on a pose. It looks polished, yet it forgets the soul underneath. The divine feminine energy in my black women…

A crown of natural hair spreading outward like a galaxy — that is where most of my portraits begin, with a face that refuses to be small. For me, Black Women Art isn’t simply about creating beautiful images. It’s about…

A woman with her afro spreading wide like a galaxy, eyes holding centuries — that is where this whole collection begins. “Why do you paint them so powerful?” someone asked me about my work yesterday. I laughed. I don’t paint…

I want anyone who receives one of these portraits to feel chosen — to feel seen the way the night sky sees a single bright star. At 4 AM, finishing the final star on portrait 100 of my Black Women…

I made this collection so the person who receives it feels seen — truly seen, the way you do when someone takes the time to honor where you came from. Every stroke in my Black Women Art carries the weight…

I made this collection to give someone the feeling of being seen as something vast — to look at the wall and remember that she is bigger than any room she has ever been told to shrink inside of. The…

A woman with locs reaching toward the stars, painted as if the whole night sky belonged to her — that is where this collection begins, and that is the rule of my studio: every woman I paint here gets treated…

The crown is invisible in my Black Women Art, but anyone who looks at the portrait knows exactly where it sits. Working on another portrait this week, I caught myself realizing something I hadn’t said out loud before — I’ve…

A brown-skinned queen glows against a sky full of stars, her gaze steady, her crown made of light itself. “Black is beautiful” was never just a phrase to me. It is the foundation underneath every single piece of Black Women…

I’ll confess something I don’t admit often: there are nights I stare at a portrait for an hour and feel like I’ve gotten everything wrong. The eyes feel hollow. The crown feels borrowed. And then, somewhere around the third cup…