Last year alone, I've done two studio clean-outs of epic size. After almost giving a year's worth of painting up—and trying to sell off on older work—at last, I found myself in the situation where I couldn't help but ignore the fact: much of what I'd been accumulating simply no longer resonated with me.
Some of it was like ghosts of old selves. Some were like artistic detours without destinations. I chose to release the work that didn't belong to me anymore. And not just the work—equipment, material, drawings, canvases, pieces of paper. All that maybe-someday work I was clinging to habit or shame.
I decided that I want to work on a bigger scale from now on. Bigger canvases, greater leeway. The smaller ones can still be included in the mix—especially for pieces updated or photo-based—but in general, I'm done thinking small. That goes for both the art and my thought process.
I've had this cleaning compulsion every now and then. To strip things bare. Every now and then I'll catch myself thinking, maybe it's because I'm afraid of being a hoarder. I'm not—not by a long way. But I have worked in hoarder homes. I've seen firsthand what happens when creative energy gets turned inward and gets stuck. I don't want that for myself.
All the same, I do and don't have much. It's all relative. Over the years I've given away, donated, or sold off an enormous quantity of things. Books to free libraries. Art supplies and other materials to those friends of mine who require them. I might have made more money if I'd sold everything—but sometimes it just feels better to give.
I won't deceive you. There are a few things I do regret giving away. A fragment of which I miss. A book of which I wish I still owned. And certainly some money regrets, as well. But some of this is learning to live with that. To remind myself: someone else might be in greater need of it than I am. And I still have the memory, the story, the version of the thing in my mind. That's a kind of preservation, too.
To help with releasing, I've started documenting things—taking photos of things before releasing them. It's a small ritual that soothes me. If I want to revisit, I can. If I want to remake, I'll have a path to follow.
Releasing is now a part of my process. It's clearing space—physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. It's what makes the work honest. It makes me honest.
And every time that I let something go, I remind myself: it's not lost. It just changed hands. Maybe it'll have a new life somewhere else. Maybe that letting go will come back to me in some different guise.
Some think that kindness comes back tenfold. I don't know if it always does. I do know, though, that releasing the things which no longer fit is the only way to make space for what comes next.
And I'm ready for what comes next.
The Art of the Atmosphere — Staging with Julian Porcino
Over the past few months, I’ve been working alongside Julian Porcino on home staging projects, and it’s quickly become one of the most creatively fulfilling parts of my life. Julian’s work isn’t just about aesthetics — it’s about presence, intention, and creating spaces that feel aligned, calm, and full of life.
We’ve worked on homes in Columbia County (where we’re both based), New York City, and the Berkshires — each with its own rhythm and personality. Whether it's a rural farmhouse or a city apartment, the process is rooted in the same principle: listening to the space and letting it speak.
Personally, I love the full range of it. Moving furniture around, digging through someone’s home to see what they already have, noticing what can be used in a new way. There’s something special about finding character in a forgotten object — giving it new meaning just by changing its placement.
Julian has a sharp and soulful eye, and what I appreciate most is how collaborative he is. He asks for my opinion, lets me style corners, and values the way I see things. It’s not just about filling a space — it’s about building a feeling together.
I’ve also started sourcing pieces for him — vintage items, art books, small objects with texture and soul. And lately, I’ve been painting abstract works that have ended up in some of the staged homes. Seeing them on the walls feels quietly powerful. Like leaving a small part of myself in a space that’s about to become someone else’s future.
Beyond staging, Julian is also a licensed real estate agent and a breathwork facilitator — which honestly makes a lot of sense. His work is holistic: body, space, energy. It’s about helping people feel more connected, more grounded, more in tune with what they want from the places they live in and move through.
(Insert photos here: your artwork in the homes, styled moments, sourced objects, photos of you and Julian at work.)
If you’re looking to transform a space — whether for selling, settling in, or just finding a new sense of balance — I’d love to connect. I bring a careful eye, a love of details, and a real joy in helping create rooms that feel right. And if you’re interested in working with Julian, I can’t recommend him enough.
Learn more about Julian’s work here:
🔗 Instagram – @julianporcino
🔗 Website – julianporcino.com
Photographer below - Alon Koppel
In the Middle of Becoming
Life rarely follows a direct path, instead it mеanders, reroutes, loops around, and sometimes sіmply halts. Lately, I have found myself in thаt transitional realm, poised between conclusiоns and commencements, clinging and releasing, sоrrow and advancement.
The recent months have ushеred in considerable transformations for me, sоme marked by pain, others by quiet beauty, yet аll were ultimately essential.
As many of you аre aware, I am a photographer and painter. Howеver, my recent endeavors have extended beyond mеre creation, encompassing reflection, re-evaluаtion, and gradual reconstruction. Following a сhallenging separation and navigating the intrіcacies of my autism diagnosis, I have confrontеd aspects of myself previously avoided. This jоurney has not been without its difficulties, mаrked by days of profound uncertainty, days confіned within the walls of my home, and days questіoning all that I hold dear. Yet, amidst these trіals, moments of clarity, peace, and possibilitу have emerged.
I continue to dedicate myself tо my art, increasing my physical activity, extеnding my reach to others, and rediscovering thе joy of painting. I now permit myself breaks wіthout guilt, allowing color to re-enter my exіstence, not merely in a literal sense, but emоtionally as well. I am coming to understand thаt healing is not about transforming into someоne new, but rather about returning to the essеnce of myself.
If you are reading this, I extеnd my gratitude for your presence on this journеy with me. I am learning to be more mindful, tо welcome change even when it instills fear, and tо trust that the individual I am evolving into іs worth anticipating.
Please stay connected, fоr there is more art, more narratives, and morе life yet to come.
My October NYC Solo Trip
I've always wanted to photograph Halloween in the city, and I finally had the opportunity to do so. This solo trip was also a personal challenge for me. Staying by myself in NYC, away from family, with no one in the building to help me felt different from past experiences, like when I stayed in the hospital or worked on a wedding a few years ago where help was nearby.
I do know people in the city and have contacts there I could reach out to if needed. Thankfully, I hung out with a friend each day I was there, which helped a lot. I didn’t expect to last as long as I did on my own—we can be our own worst critics sometimes! I ended up walking about 70,000 steps over three days, with around 30,000 of those steps just on Halloween.
Next time Halloween falls on a weekend, I hope even more people will be dressed up during the day. There were a fair number of costumes, but in the city, it's sometimes hard to tell who’s in costume and who’s in their regular clothes!
I love NYC, and maybe someday I’ll live there. I’ve applied to many jobs in the area, but no luck so far. The city is always buzzing with art and history, and it’s a hub for street photography. I could go on about my trip and my love for NYC, but I just wanted to share a little something from the experience.
Also, I want to thank Julian Porcino for allowing me to stay at his place in the city, A great host, friend, and boss. If you ever need an interior designer please feel free to reach out to him he has me work with him on most of his projects.
Hike #35
Innisfree Garden is located in the town of Millbrook NY. Its a large property, to me its like Art Omi but rocks formations. Its very easy to walk and for the most part flat. There is a $10 fee so bring cash. Lots of cool rock formations and gardens. Massive tree and plans that I have not seen in Columbia County. The bridge is a bit wanky, so if you have vertigo dont go on it unless they have fixed it. lots of ferns and moss.
