Sometime in the 1950s, my grandfather visited the black forest region of Germany, to a small town named Calw, and (presumably after some research) found a church that had some stained glass with our family’s shield. He sat in the church and made a drawing of the shield. When he got home, he made a carving of the shield, and gave it to my dad, who gave it to me.
This piece is a memorial tattoo for my stepfather. The morning after he passed, the family saw a pair of swallowtail butterflies - his and my mom’s favorite to watch - flying around the hydrangeas in the yard - their favorite flowers. The knotted climbing ropes are a reminder of the times we would go rock climbing together. I really appreciate being able to carry these family memories around with me.
This is the beginning of Bach’s Ciaccona, from his violin Partita in D minor for solo violin. It’s amazing. To me it has two meanings: One, it’s a relic from my time as a violinist in a pro classical orchestra.
This green Kraken represents my immigration story to the US, and how overcame every obstacle that the pursuit of my green card threw at me 🐙.
I’ve always been a huge sci-fi fan. As a teenager I read a lot vintage 1940s and 50s science fiction. One of the first books from the era I read was Robert Heinlein’s Orphans of the Sky: the one of the earliest “generation ship” novels.