the Living Room. Welcome ToThe big game, the song on repeat or the
one movie you cant get out of your head
The title The Living Room Collection came almost instinctively, as if the art itself was calling for a space that felt both intimate and welcoming. The living room is a place where we gather—where we share stories, listen to music, and watch films that shape who we are. It’s where the conversation flows freely, where everyone is invited, and where we let down our guard.
These are the subjects of The Living Room Collection—figures charged with tension, charisma, and motion. Painted in oil with jewel-toned palettes, they carry the emotional resonance of the music that fills the room while I work. Every stroke is shaped by the roar of guitars, the hush of pre-game silence, the ache of bodies pushed to their limits. What you see in these paintings is part performance, part reflection—an echo of what we see on screens, in stadiums, on stages—and what we feel when we look a little closer.
There’s a long history of the female body being painted through the male gaze—framed for consumption, stripped of complexity. In response, many women artists have reclaimed the nude as a space of power. But even that loop can feel closed. We’re still looking at bodies. Still asking who gets to look—and why. This collection asks a quieter question: what happens when a woman turns her gaze outward—onto the masculine? What does it mean to paint men not as trophies or myths, but as subjects of feeling, motion, and vulnerability?
I don’t paint these figures to worship them. I paint them to understand the balance—to express admiration, attraction, and complexity without apology. It’s not about flipping the script. It’s about writing a new one, where tenderness, beauty, and strength can coexist in every body. These figures—painted in oil and brimming with movement—are larger than life, drawn from the music that has shaped me and the gritty stories of films and sports that I watch on my couch in the living room.
I hope this collection creates space for a new kind of gaze. I want the viewer to feel the raw energy of the music—guitars shredding, the smokey atmosphere thick with cigarette smoke. I want them to sense the palpable tension in these figures lives—the pain of loss, the triumph of victory, the unrelenting pursuit of something greater than oneself. This is a collection of visceral experiences, captured in moments where masculinity meets vulnerability, strength meets tenderness.
it’s about inviting everyone into a space where that energy can be experienced in a new way. It’s a place where the music plays, the conversations happen, and the figures stand as symbols of both vulnerability and strength. The living room is alive with sound and emotion, and the art in this collection is a reflection of that energy—raw, real, and unfiltered.
This is what my living room looks like
Make it stand out.
EH
Come on in…
Painting what pulls me in
The Living Room Collection challenges traditional boundaries and celebrates the raw power of masculinity through the female gaze. In a world where women are often confined to certain artistic roles, I’ve broken free from those constraints to paint what excites me, what I find beautiful. Cowboys, football players, rockstars—and the motorcycles they ride—these are figures full of confidence, grit, and undeniable energy.
What lives in the motion
These subjects are not static. They exist in the heat of movement: mid-swing, mid-solo, mid-buck. My brushwork is bold and gestural, my palette full of rich, jewel-toned intensity. The work is driven by the pulse of music, by the swagger of cinematic moments, by lived and imagined scenes of masculine presence.
A gaze that’s mine
As a female artist, I’ve often felt boxed in—expected to paint softness, domesticity, femininity. This collection is my declaration: I paint what moves me. The figures in these paintings are honored not as distant icons, but as subjects of attraction, admiration, and emotional depth. I’m not asking for permission to look—I’m already looking.
Masculinity, unmasked
There is vulnerability in strength. These paintings capture both—the triumph and the ache, the chaos and the control, the weight of performance and the cracks beneath it. I want the viewer to feel the tension: the music, the smoke, the sweat, the risk. These are not just portraits of men; they are portraits of moments where something real threatens to break through.
The art, like the music, doesn’t stay quiet
My process is deeply intertwined with sound. I experience audio-to-visual synesthesia—music doesn’t just inspire me, it becomes the color and movement in my work. Each figure is shaped by the pulse of a song, the build of a chorus, the rawness of a scream. A curated playlist will accompany this collection—because the paintings don’t just hang. They play.
Why the living room?
Because it’s where life happens. It’s where we gather, laugh, watch, grieve. It’s where we fall in love with characters on a screen and sing along with songs we’ve heard a thousand times. It’s both intimate and communal, messy and magnetic. The living room holds everything—and so does this collection.
Make it stand out
A distinct element of my creative process is my experience of audio-to-visual synesthesia. Each note, each guitar riff, each powerful scream of a song translates into color and composition. The music plays as I work, giving life to the figures on the canvas and guiding the flow of each piece. With The Living Room Collection, there is a soundtrack that exists alongside the art, deepening the emotional experience. The playlist is a mix of the gritty and the anthemic—Chris Stapleton’s soulful twang, the soaring guitars of Free Bird, the punch of Bon Jovi, the alt-rock pop energy of The Band Camino, and the raw honesty of artists like Zach Bryan, Morgan Wallen, and Luke Combs. Classic tracks like Alone by Heart, the timeless energy of The Rolling Stones, and the unrelenting power of Journey and The Killers’ Mr. Brightside each contribute to the soundscape, adding layers of depth to the emotional tapestry of the collection. From heavy guitars and powerful drums to the delicate twang of country voices, the music sets the stage for the figures to come to life.
The Living Room is alive with music as you experience the art. These men are painted not just with color, but with the sounds that give them their soul. The art and the music are inseparable, blending together in a sensory experience that is visceral, compelling, and unforgettable.
The playlist
Mr. Brightside
“Im often asked why I paint men.The answer isn’t simple—but it’s honest: because I find them beautiful.I paint cowboys in mid-motion, athletes in aftermath, musicians mid-performance—moments where masculinity hums with vulnerability. It’s not about idolizing them. It’s about observing something charged, messy, and real.As a woman, I live with the experience of being looked at. This collection gives me the chance to look back—but with care, curiosity, and control. I’m not interested in objectifying. I’m interested in intimacy. In complexity. In painting what pulls me in and letting it say something deeper.These works live between strength and softness, bravado and collapse. That’s where I find the most truth.” -EH
