Painting as Presence
My work is not born from concept, but from attention.
Each painting begins in spaciousness — not with an idea to express, but with a willingness to receive. I don’t paint to impose a vision; I paint to listen, to dwell, to open a threshold into the unseen. My role is to nurture what is emerging.
In dream-like images, my work mirrors the truth of our experience: the quiet commingling of seen and unseen, earthly and spiritual, form and formlessness. Elements of nature — the moon, branches, bones, floral gestures — appear alongside shimmering layers of abstract expressionism that suggest ineffable inner worlds.
I work primarily on canvas with acrylic, often incorporating mixed media for depth and texture. My process is largely free of premeditation. I work layer by layer, letting intuition lead. What emerges is not narrative, but essence — a flicker of memory, a sacred rhythm, a felt knowing. These images arrive as freshly to me as they do to the viewer.
The process humbles me. It wrestles my ego, my fears, my expectations — and in the surrender, I find something better. Art becomes both a courage-maker and a truth-teller. A teacher in stillness. A quiet force that embraces change and reveals grace in the letting go.
To paint is to pack for a journey whose destination I do not know — and also to take that journey, step by step. The arrival is a resonate whisper: Here we are. All along, a portal was being made.
They carry, no doubt, faint shimmers of my own experience — impressions gathered from a life shaped by a creative lineage, and attuned to myth, archetype, psychology, and spiritual devotion. I’ve always been drawn to the language of dreams, the mystique of old theatre, and the inner atmospheres of the soul — all of which quietly echo in the textures of my work.
I see my paintings as thresholds: quiet spaces through which we may return to ourselves. A painting is a stillness that holds you — not a message to decode, but a presence to receive.
Wherever my work is encountered, my hope is that each painting becomes not just something to view, but something to be with — an energy source, a living companion that affirms your wholeness and invites you to remember:
the story has always been yours.
A living timeline of art, devotion, and return
"We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time." - T.S. Eliot
The Path
Childhood
I grew up among paintings, raised by my mother, artist Sabrina Laumer. She kept a studio in a gritty warehouse complex on the edge of San Antonio — and in most places we lived.
Here I am pictured in her studio inside my grandfather Keith’s remote, hand-built home in Florida, during the time we lived there preparing it for sale.
I was allowed to make messes, ask questions, and listen. Art was as natural as the air we breathed.
Youth & Creative Direction
Though I grew up drawing daily, surrounded by studio space, my childhood dreams pointed toward the stage and screen. I began training and working professionally as an actor at age eleven.
Eventually, I moved to Los Angeles, where I studied a technique rooted in the Yale School of Drama — a rigorous, expressive method that unexpectedly led me inward.
What I had been unknowingly seeking — like a kind of Holy Grail — wasn’t a role or a spotlight, but true creative embodiment. That discipline shone a light on a layered inner life and vision I had never fully recognized.
The pull to tell other people’s stories gave way to a desire to give form to my own.
There, quietly waiting, was my first love. I returned to my original domain: visual art.
Awakening Journey
I carried my work across the American Southwest with Awaken to Your Life as a Spiritual Journey — an innovative blend of interactive spiritual storytelling and pop-up art exhibit.
Through these alchemical gatherings — held in universities, sacred spaces, community centers, and private homes — I witnessed how art offered as a catalyst for presence and connection can open more than just insight.
It can create the kind of heart-space where real growth and transformation take root.
Now
I live and paint in the Texas Hill Country — where the real, the wild, and the sacred rhythms of life converge. I’m rediscovering an ancient kinship with land, food, and sky.
In a sunlit studio, nestled in the heart of it all, the paintings emerge. The thresholds keep opening.
These are glimpses from the winding path of my life — beautiful and rough-hewn turns, subtly guiding and gently shaping impressions that linger, becoming the images I bring forth.