Italy in California

Arrival, in stucco and light.

There’s a reason I’ve always been drawn to Italy.

It’s not just the colors, the villas, or the scent of citrus hanging in a courtyard breeze.

It’s the pace, the texture, the way beauty is not reserved for special occasions, but baked into walls, bread, and silence.

Italy doesn’t try to impress you.

It just is.

And that’s the resonance I’ve been painting toward, not just on canvas, but in life.

✨Little Italies

This month, I’m releasing a capsule series of small works called Little Italies

6-inch originals thick with impasto, each one a tiny portal to that remembered frequency.

Balconies with overflowing flower boxes.

Weathered doorways in warm light.

Lemons on cool marble.

Golden hills where cypress trees wait without urgency.

These aren’t travel paintings. They’re feeling paintings.

Little echoes of a life lived slowly, richly, without needing to earn rest or explain joy.

✨ Beauty as Birthright

Italy taught me something long before I ever stepped foot there:

That beauty is not a luxury.

That arrival is not a performance.

That texture is a language all its own.

So whether it’s in a painting, a meal, or a single lemon placed with care…

I want to live like that.

And this new chapter, with paint on my fingers, emails to collectors, and light shifting across the studio wall,

is not a departure from art.

It is art.

It’s Italy in California.

It’s arrival, in form.