Before television became the center of our evenings, a new issue of The Saturday Evening Post would arrive, and its covers—especially Norman Rockwell’s—gave people something to pause over. Those illustrations captured everyday moments so well: a child’s curiosity, a quiet glance between family members, the simple comfort of a dog nearby. They invited you to look closer, imagine the stories behind the faces, and maybe even talk about them with whomever was around. That kind of slow, thoughtful looking inspires me.
In our world of quick screens and constant scrolling, I paint candid scenes you can sink into. Children caught in play, bubbles drifting across a sunny deck, small hands reaching for something delightful. In my romantic couples series, faces are softly hinted at rather than spelled out, but the gentle leans, the way arms wrap around each other, carry the story.
I use realism with classical methods: starting with a grisaille underpainting for solid structure, then building up layers of glazes. The result is matte with a soft texture—no high gloss, just something that draws you in closer over time. Like those old magazine covers, my paintings are meant to live on your wall, revealing new little details the longer you look: a dachshund peeking in, light catching a bare toe, the subtle curve of an embrace. They turn ordinary moments into something worth savoring, stirring a bit of nostalgia and quiet joy.
If you’re drawn to art that slows things down and lets you wonder, take a look at my collections. The Childhood Moments gallery of fine art prints with those lingering details.