Afrocentric Art

Most art built around this theme falls flat for one reason: it borrows someone else’s idea of beauty and forgets to ask what the woman herself already carries. The elegance I capture in my black women art has nothing to…

While I was drawing the dripping ink across that first portrait, I kept asking myself one question: can something this heavy still be beautiful? Have you ever found beauty in your darkest moments—when tears became the ink that rewrote your…

I want every woman who stands in front of these portraits to feel seen — fully, gently, and without having to explain herself. That is the feeling I chase in my black women art: the quiet certainty of belonging in…

A golden silhouette, an afro drawn line by line, and a face that holds a whole inner universe — that is where this collection begins. Who deserves to see their beauty reflected in afro tshirt art every single day? You…

I’ll admit something I don’t say often: when I first sat down to draw two people in love, I doubted whether I could capture it honestly. Romance is slippery. It lives in the smallest gestures, and I worried my lines…

There is a quiet relief that comes when something inside you finally gets to exist outside of you. That release — that exhale — is the feeling I want this collection to give whoever brings it home. Yesterday a sister…

​Introducing “Atok and 12 Tribe Chiefs” How do you draw a face that was never meant to be just a face? That was the question circling in my mind the whole time I worked on this series. An african mask…

What does it mean to crown someone in starlight? That was the question I kept asking myself one late night, hunched over my screen, building the first piece of the Royalty Series. The first time someone called my black women…

What Happens When Men Finally Feel “Real men don’t cry” — that has to be one of the biggest lies ever passed down to us. Last month, my brother called me after his divorce was finalized. Through the phone, I…

The most powerful moment in creating black women art comes when the portrait starts looking back at me. It happened again last night—hour 47 on a new piece. Suddenly, she wasn’t just pixels anymore. She had something to say, and…