Art is my way of giving dignity to human emotion—first my own, then yours.
I approach each canvas like a therapy session—a place to spill secrets, stitch up the broken bits, and wander through the unseen. No sketches, no plans, no staying inside the lines. My hands move on instinct, guided by feeling, not foresight. I don’t just see visions—I feel them. Life speaks to me in surreal images, and painting is how I translate its wild, tangled language.
Every piece I create is a page in my story. Like sacred trails winding through the wilderness, each painting marks a place I’ve been—but never the whole map of who I am. My scars are woven into every brushstroke, not as wounds, but as proof that I’ve walked through fire and come out the other side.
But art isn’t just about me—it’s about us. The golden moment is when you see a piece of yourself in my work. When something stirs inside you—not as advice, but as encouragement. We’ve all had dark nights, long roads, and heavy hearts. But it’s just a bad day, not a bad life.
I don’t just want my work to be art on a wall—I want it to be a spark, a conversation, a shared understanding. The friendships I build with my collectors are treasures, and I strive to create a legacy of integrity, loyalty, and real human connection through my art.
And then, there are the stickers.
These? These are pure joy. No deep meaning required.
My inner child is a ‘90s kid, and if there’s one thing I never grew out of, it’s the sheer delight of stickers. Slapping them on notebooks, skateboards, water bottles, and basically anything with a flat-enough surface was the childhood flex. I lived for the scratch-and-sniff, glow-in-the-dark, and especially the holographic ones that shimmered like tiny pieces of magic.
Now, as an artist, I get to bring that nostalgia back to life. These stickers are little bursts of personality—fun-sized rebellion to add color and shine to your world as much as mine. Because let’s be honest—some things from childhood are just too good to leave behind.
The Wild, the Wilderness & the Battle
Beyond painting, I find my soul in the wild—chasing sunsets with my husky, Levi, falling asleep to the crackling of fire and the whispers of the pines. Nature heals me in ways a canvas never could. But my greatest battle has been Lyme disease. Since 2016, it has stolen my strength, my freedom, and at times, my hope. It took away my ability to create, to explore, to even walk Levi down the block. But it did not take my spirit.
I am still here, still painting, still dreaming. Art is my way forward. Every purchase of my work helps me reclaim my life, piece by piece, breath by breath. It allows me to keep healing, keep creating, and keep building my world in Flagstaff, Arizona.
With the deepest gratitude—thank you for supporting a living artist. And his dog.
Sincerely,
Weston & Levi