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11" x 11" framed (blonde hardwood) Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection.  

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $295

10" x 10" framed (blonde hardwood) Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $295

11" x 11" framed (blonde hardwood) Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $375

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics (in this case fibrous papers and threads from my silk clothing), it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection.   $295 without frame $350 framed    

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection.  

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor by trade and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if the two of us are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this connection of hands, hearts and DNA, which points to the fact that we are all in conversation with our past (whether it's conscious or not), and perhaps we can heal backwards in time! The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection.  

11" x 11" framed (blonde hardwood) Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $375

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA, reflecting the notion that we are all in conversation with our past (whether it's conscious or not).  And maybe, just maybe it means we can heal backwards in time. The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $295

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor by trade and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if the two of us are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this connection of hands, hearts and DNA, which points to the fact that we are all in conversation with our past (whether it's conscious or not), and perhaps we can heal backwards in time! The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $295

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. He was a tailor by trade and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if the two of us are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this connection of hands, hearts and DNA. In doing so, I aim to reflect the larger themes of belonging and love in one's ancestral lineage, to suggest that we are ALL in conversation with our past (whether it's conscious or not), and to offer the radical suggestion that perhaps we can heal family wounds backwards in time. The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $295

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this connection of hands, hearts and DNA, perhaps pointing to the fact that we are ALL in conversation with our past (whether it's conscious or not), and to offer the radical suggestion that perhaps we can heal family wounds backwards in time. The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection.  

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. He was a tailor by trade and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if the two of us are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this connection of hands, hearts and DNA. In doing so, I aim to reflect the larger themes of belonging and love in one's ancestral lineage, to suggest that we are ALL in conversation with our past (whether it's conscious or not), and to offer the radical suggestion that perhaps we can heal family wounds backwards in time. The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $295

10" x 10" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $295

11" x 11"  with blonde hardwood frame Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. He was a tailor by trade and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if the two of us are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this connection of hands, hearts and DNA. In doing so, I aim to reflect the larger themes of belonging and love in one's ancestral lineage, to suggest that we are ALL in conversation with our past (whether it's conscious or not), and to offer the radical suggestion that perhaps we can heal family wounds backwards in time. The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $375

10" x 10" framed (blonde hardwood) Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection.  

11" x 11" framed (blonde hardwood) Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection. $375

10" x 10" framed (blonde hardwood) Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather, whom I never met, while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.   He was a tailor and I, too, work creatively with my hands and fabrics. By placing his letters together with my fabrics, it’s as if we are in conversation in the current moment. My hope is to capture something about this lineage of hands, hearts and DNA. There are so many ways in which we are all in conversation with our past -- whether it's conscious or not. And what if this also means we can heal "backwards" in time? The small scale of the work underscores the intimate nature of this conversation and reflection.  

36" x 36" Mixed media on wood This is part of a series inspired by 100 letters written by my grandfather while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met him. All the artwork in this series bring forth the feelings, passions and ideas he wrote about, or are derived from the physicality of the stationery, handwriting, stains, etc. This series references how immigrants have persevered through darkness, after persecution or great despair, to find their way to a distant, more hopeful shore. Like my grandfather, who fled the pogroms of Eastern Europe and then proudly fought as a U.S. soldier in the "Great War," so many immigrants have held their commitment to America – with all its promises and pitfalls – as a deep honor and privilege. The phrase "With the Colors," which was printed onto the U.S. Expeditionary Forces stationery he used, stands as a solemn and heartfelt term for the American flag. Each painting in this series embodies the immigrant's dual perspective – like a message in a bottle drifting across vast waters, carrying hopes and memories within: one part facing backward across the ocean to family, streets and villages left behind, and one part straining forward toward an unknown horizon of possibility. Just as my grandfather's letters carried both longing and determination across the ocean, these paintings hold the tension between remembrance and reinvention that defines the immigrant experience. The phrase "with the colors" takes on deeper meaning in this context – not just allegiance to a new flag, but the act of carrying one's own colors, one's own culture and heritage, into the American tapestry. Each immigrant's journey represents both a [...]

16" x 16" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. All the artwork in this series bring forth the feelings, passions and ideas he wrote about, or are derived from the materiality of the stationery, handwriting, paper stains, etc. With the Colors references the strength with which immigrants held their commitment and obligation as soldiers to the American army. The phrase "with the colors", which was printed onto some of the US Expeditionary Forces stationary, is a solemn and heartfelt term used especially by soldiers when talking about the American flag.      

30" x 40" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. In one letter, my grandfather instructs my grandmother to overcome her worry and loneliness by asking her to think only of the day when they will be together again, to focus on being in eachothers' arms, and to fill her heart with joy. He concludes by telling her that “this is how he is coping…as it’s the best remedy.” As a student of Eastern wisdom traditions, I was struck by the timeless wisdom my grandfather had both used for himself  - and dispensed for his loved one - aimed at cultivating a mindset to help reduce suffering.   $2200  

13" x 13" Mixed media on wood, framed in blonde hardwood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. Separated from my grandmother by the unforgiving landscape of war, my grandfather offered remarkably sophisticated instructions for her to manage her anxiety and loneliness in one of his letters.  He guides her to visualize their eventual embrace, to hold that image and feeling with intentional clarity, and then to allow genuine joy to fill her heart. "This is how I am coping everyday," he writes, "I find it to be the best remedy." As a student of Eastern wisdom traditions, I was immediately struck by the remarkable parallels between his intuitive approach to her suffering and ancient contemplative practices for mental transformation. The artwork Remedy #3 emerges from this profound moment of intimate wisdom, exploring how imagination can become a powerful tool for emotional well-being.   $450  

20" x 20" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. In one letter, my grandfather instructs my grandmother to overcome her worry and loneliness by asking her to think only of the day when they will be together again, to focus on being in eachothers' arms, and to then to fill her heart with joy. He concludes by telling her that “this is how he is coping everyday…as it’s the best remedy.” As a student of Eastern wisdom traditions, I was struck by the timeless wisdom my grandfather had both used for himself  - and dispensed for his loved one - aimed at cultivating a mindset to help reduce suffering.   $695  

13" x 13" framed in blonde hardwood Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $450

13" x 13" in a blonde, hardwood frame Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $450

30" x 30" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $1300  

30" x 30" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then. $1300

24" x 24" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $850  

24" x 24" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $850

24" x 24" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $850

24" x 24" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $850

20" x 20" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $695  

20" x 20" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $695  

16" x 16" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $495  

16" x 16" Mixed media on wood This piece is one of a series that emerged from a set of 100 letters written by my grandfather to my grandmother while he was a young soldier serving in the US Army during World War I.  I never met my grandfather. At the center of the absolute misery of war is the human being, striving to survive against both the bombarding threats and a harrowing sense of isolation.  The only abiding antidote to war’s cruelties is real human connection.  This truth radiates out from my grandfather’s words, including when he wrote to his beloved “Goldie”: I need to hear from you more to take “the blue” out of me. Feeling isolated and yearning to reconnect are hardly unique to war—they can occur during a global pandemic or simply everyday life.  I try to reflect both the joyous dream of reuniting with a loved one as well as the “blue” -- the longing and gloom that befalls all of us now and then.   $495  

20" x 20" Mixed media on wood