About Me
My journey as an artist began with a desire to give shape to the stories and strength I carry, so my children, grandchildren, and community can see themselves with honor. Drawing has always been my way to listen. When I put pencil or pen to bright white paper, I’m listening to Elders’ teachings, to the rhythm of dance, to the land around Ft. Bidwell.
My heritage as Gidutikad Band of Northern Paiute guides everything—from the subjects I choose to the way I render them. I focus on dancers, warriors, and homelands because they hold movement, ceremony, and responsibility. Clean lines and open space keep the attention on form, regalia, and spirit; every feather, braid, and bead is drawn with respect. I want each piece to feel contemporary in a home or gallery, but rooted in who we are and where we come from.
My Art
Explore the unique stories and messages behind some of my most popular and meaningful pieces:
Chief Red Cloud: I drew him with a quiet, steady gaze to honor leadership that protects people without losing compassion. The lines are calm and deliberate—more about responsibility than spectacle—so viewers meet a person, not just a name in a book.
Chief Three Bears: This portrait carries the warmth and weight of an Elder’s counsel. I kept the composition uncluttered so the braids, eyes, and set of the mouth do the storytelling—strength that’s firm, not harsh.
WAR Pony: It’s about partnership, not battle. The markings and motion point to trust between rider and horse, the way two beings move as one when duty calls.
ICE Man: Winter teaches clarity. I used cool, spare linework to hold the feeling of breath in cold air—discipline, patience, and the kind of toughness that stays quiet.
BIRD Man: Dancers carry messages. The feathers, posture, and negative space suggest lift—how song and movement can help us travel between worlds without leaving our responsibilities behind.
Ft. Bidwell: A love letter to home. Every mark is a memory of land, water, and people who raised me; it’s drawn to look clean on bright white so the place itself shines.
WolfSinger: About voice and medicine. The lines follow the shape of a howl—part prayer, part warning—reminding us that solitude and community both have their time.
Across all of them, I use pencil and pen on bright white paper to keep the focus on form, regalia, and spirit—strong in who we are.
My Vision
When you collect Black Eagle Art, I want you to feel you’re helping a story travel—with dignity—to the next generation. I want people to feel seen and grounded—like they’re meeting a living story, not just hanging an image. My hope is that a piece brings a sense of calm strength into a room and keeps a quiet conversation going: about who we are, where we come from, and what we carry forward.
For Native buyers, I hope it feels like recognition and continuity. For non-Native buyers, I hope it inspires respect and responsibility—to learn, to listen, and to support living cultures rather than just admire them at a distance.
I also bring this work to the street and the people through murals. In California, Nevada, and Washington I’ve created large and small pieces for community centers, schools, and local businesses—designs that honor dancers, warriors, and homelands while fitting the rhythm of each building. I work site-specifically: meet with organizers, listen, sketch on bright white, and translate those lines to the wall with durable, weather-safe materials.
I’m excited to create murals in Alaska—both intimate indoor pieces and large exterior works. My goal is to collaborate with communities so each wall carries local story and presence, whether that means a hallway panel for a clinic or a full façade for a cultural center. Every mural is a partnership: respectful process, clear timelines, and a finish that’s built to last.
Future Impact
Near term (next 1–2 years): I’m finishing a focused series of dancers, warriors, and homelands—each released as a limited edition with signed/numbered prints, certificates of authenticity, and a small provenance registry so collectors can track the story of their piece. I’ll keep showing the drawings as bright, disciplined black-and-white so the movement, regalia, and spirit stay front and center. I also want to partner with Indigenous curators and community spaces for grounded, respectful exhibitions—places where the work is in dialogue with people, not just walls.
Building impact (3–5 years): I plan to expand into larger works, a few collaborative pieces with culture-bearers (song, dance, language), and a small monograph that pairs images with stories. Each edition will help fund community priorities—youth art days, Elder–apprentice workshops, and materials for local programs—so collecting Black Eagle Art directly supports the people and places that shaped it. Digitally, I’ll add QR codes or short audio to select works (with consent) so buyers can hear more about the place or teaching behind an image.
What I want this to mean: For the art world: a clear, contemporary Indigenous voice that’s rigorous in craft and honest in story. For my community: recognition, continuity, and opportunities for young artists to learn alongside Elders. If my drawings can carry strength into a room and help a story travel with dignity to the next generation, Black Eagle Art is doing its job.
