Nina Simone was a scientist of sound, an architect of emotion, and a historian of the black experience. Born Eunice Kathleen Waymon in North Carolina in 1933, she was a child prodigy who could play piano by ear before her feet could reach the pedals. Her lifelong dream was to become the first black female classical pianist in America.

When the Curtis Institute of Music rejected her application—an act she maintained was rooted in racism—Eunice was forced to play in the bars of Atlantic City to support her family. It was there that she became Nina Simone, a pseudonym chosen to hide her 'devil’s music' from her strictly religious mother.

Her 1965 masterpiece, I Put a Spell on You, represents the pinnacle of her transformative power. Where Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ original was a piece of voodoo kitsch, Simone turned it into a desperate, elegant demand for devotion. She utilized her classical training to treat the piano not just as an accompaniment, but as a second voice, weaving counterpoints that sounded more like Bach than Broadway.

Simone possessed a rare gift: the ability to turn any song into a piece of autobiography. She didn't just sing; she cast a spell, forcing the listener to feel every crack in her voice and every strike of the keys. She was the embodiment of contradiction—tender yet commanding, classical yet revolutionary. A legend? The word seems almost too small for a woman of her magnitude.

I remember thinking even as a kid: you could take a normal photo, or you (meaning me) could make it interesting. My family doesn’t have many untainted, polished group shots because I made it my mission to ruin as many as possible by acting like a complete idiot. I still hold that point of view today. 😂

My work lives in the space between satire and sincerity. I paint melting icons, cartoon nightmares, steampunk saints, and pop-culture ghosts. It’s strange, vivid, and full of tension that asks: why do we worship the things we do?

For over 17 years, I’ve used oil paint and a healthy disrespect for the expected to transform familiar figures into something weirder and more honest. I’m here to mock mediocrity, mourn memory, and find beauty in cultural decay. I love blending humor with anxiety, pop culture with pathos, and the uncanny with the strangely familiar.