Barbecue and the burden of being

05/2026 — 27.5″ x 30″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$950

Barbecue is a celebration. Smoke in the air, friends in the backyard, cold drinks, and something delicious on the grill.

It occurred to me one day that every barbecue is also a small memorial service. The pig, the chicken, and the cow are all invited, just not in the way they’d hoped.

We didn’t design this system, but we participate in it every day. Life survives by consuming life. Somewhere between gratitude and appetite sits the strange emotional burden of being an omnivore.

Existential Malaise and Pizza Buffets

05/2026 — 30″ x 33″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$950

Gold rays. A halo. Cherubs. Symmetry. Instead of saints, we get an exhausted mother and her awful children. Not even pizza can cure their doldrums. One has to wonder what the evolutionary benefit there is in how we keep inventing small rituals—pizza, birthday candles, buffets, paper hats—to convince ourselves that today is different from every other Tuesday.

The painting eventually became the title piece for a collaborative exhibition with Anthony the Poet, where we paired existential dread with celebratory foods. Naturally, the opening featured an actual pizza buffet.

Tiempo Poco y Fideo Loco

05/2026 — 30″ x 22″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$950

Time is short, but don’t rush your dinner.

Tiempo Poco y Fideo Loco grew out of my collaboration with San Antonio poet Anthony Flores for a series pairing existential fears with the traditional and celebratory foods that make being alive a little more enjoyable.

Fideo loco is a distinctly South Texas comfort food—a heartier relative of Mexican sopa de fideo, typically loaded with additions like ground beef, beans, and potatoes. Its humble ingredients and working-class roots have become part of what makes the dish so proudly San Antonio.

We’re all killing time until time kills us. Might as well have another bowl.

Buried guilt and barbacoa

05/2026 — 55″ x 48″

Acrylic on used fence pickets

$2400

Some things stay buried. That doesn’t mean they’re gone.

Buried Guilt and Barbacoa was one of four major works created for my collaborative exhibition with Anthony the Poet in San Antonio. The idea was Anthony’s contribution to our ongoing attempt to pair traditional and celebratory foods with the various anxieties of being alive.

Barbacoa gave us an unusually convenient metaphor. Something gets buried, left underground to smolder for hours, and eventually comes back to the surface.

Freud and the priest have their own theories about what else we’ve got cooking down there.