About Artist: Every layer tells a story.
My NYC background
I grew up in Brooklyn, New York, in the early 1980s, surrounded by a city that was constantly changing. It was a time and place defined by contradictions. There was struggle, but there was also beauty. There was violence, poverty, and uncertainty, but also an incredible sense of community, creativity, and resilience.
People didn't always have much, but they found ways to make something out of what they had. Looking back, I realize that was my first introduction to art. Long before I picked up a paintbrush, I was surrounded by people creating lives from whatever was available to them.
Where My Art Began
My father was the one who taught me how to paint.
He was a naturally gifted artist, and through him, I discovered something that would shape the rest of my life. Art became more than something I enjoyed. It was a connection between a father and son. A shared language. A place where I could express myself and discover who I was, even when the world around me felt chaotic.
Life has a way of complicating the things we love.
As I grew older, some of the struggles that existed outside our home began finding their way inside. My father battled addiction, and I watched someone I admired struggle between the person he wanted to be and the challenges he faced. He never stopped being my father. And the gift he gave me never lost its meaning. When I was still a young boy, my father suffered a tragic accident that took his life.
I didn't have the words to make sense of that loss.
But I had art.
From the Streets to Something More
Growing up in Brooklyn, the streets were an extension of our lives. They were where we played, learned, struggled, and discovered ourselves.
For me, they also became a canvas. I found my way into graffiti, painting my name on walls and searching for a kind of freedom I couldn't find anywhere else. What began as an outlet for grief, anger, and confusion became an obsession with creativity. There was something powerful about taking a blank wall and leaving a piece of yourself behind. Something that said, I was here. I exist. I have something to say.
But that freedom came with consequences.
By the time I was fifteen, I found myself at a crossroads. I could continue down a path that was becoming increasingly destructive, or I could take everything the streets had taught me and turn it into something different.
I chose to create. I started airbrushing T-shirts and painting custom pieces for people in my community. What had once been an act of rebellion became a way to connect with others. A way to earn a living. A way to contribute something positive to the same neighborhood that had shaped me.
Art hadn't changed. My relationship with it had.
And in many ways, that decision changed the direction of my life.
The Art of Remembering
As I've grown older, I've come to understand that my relationship with art has always been about something deeper than painting.
It's about memory. The people who shape us. The places we come from. The moments we carry long after they've passed.
Some memories are beautiful. Others are complicated. Some we hold onto, while others we spend years trying to understand.
But together, they become the fabric of who we are.
That idea has increasingly shaped the way I create.
I call it Memory Camouflage.
It's a visual language built around layers of imagery, textures, colors, and fragments of experiences that overlap and blend into one another.
A face might emerge from a landscape. A childhood memory might disappear into the texture of a city street. Something that initially appears abstract might reveal a deeply personal story when you look a little closer.
Much like life itself, not everything is immediately visible.
Some things are hidden. Some are fragmented. Others only begin to make sense when you see how they connect.
My work explores those connections.
Between childhood and adulthood. Between loss and love. Between the places we leave behind and the parts of them that never leave us.
And perhaps most importantly, between who we were and who we're still becoming.
Creative Vision
When I think about my journey, I often return to the image of a young boy sitting beside his father, learning how to paint. Neither of us could have known where that simple act would lead. Through loss, difficult choices, and years of discovering myself, art remained a constant.
It gave me a voice when I didn't have the words. It gave me direction when I needed it most. And it continues to give me a way to connect the different chapters of my life.
Today, whether I'm creating an original painting, a custom airbrushed piece, or something entirely new, I approach each project with that same belief:
Art is more than what we see. It's what we carry.
Every piece is an opportunity to preserve a feeling, celebrate an identity, or give form to a story worth remembering. Because in the end, I don't believe we're defined by any single moment.
We're made up of layers.
And every layer has a story worth telling.
— AirworksNYC