How I Began Valuing My Work

A reflection on what makes art meaningful—and why mine continues to grow in value.

When I first began painting, I didn’t think about value in the way I do now. I thought about truth. About movement. About the urgent need to get something from inside of me onto a canvas.

What I didn’t realize at the time is that the value of a work isn’t just in how it looks. It’s in the story of how it came to be.

Over the past 10 years, I’ve created hundreds of pieces, explored multiple mediums, and submitted to more opportunities than I can count—many of which never replied. I’ve studied, tested, failed, reworked, and stretched what I thought was possible in my practice again and again.

The work you see now carries all of that.

Every painting is the result of years of experimentation, emotional risk, and quiet determination. Every brushstroke holds the energy of someone who kept showing up, even when it felt invisible. Even when no one was buying. Even when the doubt felt louder than the inspiration.

And it’s from that process, not just the final painting, that the value emerges.

What I create is not mass produced. It’s not a trend. It’s work that asks something of me and gives something lasting in return.

For my future collectors, this is what I want you to know: When you bring one of my paintings into your space, you’re not just acquiring a colorful canvas. You’re welcoming a presence, a visual record of commitment, emotional intelligence, and spiritual refinement.

This work continues to grow because I continue to grow. My curiosity deepens. My language evolves. My bravery expands.

And for those who choose to collect it, that value becomes part of your space, your story, your life.

Thank you for going on this journey with me.