Beautiful Rebellion

Beautiful Rebellion. 2025. Pen and ink on paper. 9″x12″. 

A year ago, I was mired in a creativity-crushing stasis that all but strangled my productivity. Today, that paralysis has given way to triumph: I am the subject of a six-page feature in the summer 2025 issue of the Pre-Raphaelite Society’s journal, the PRS Review. Months ago, a dear friend remarked, “This article will be your introduction as an artist. You’ve always wanted your work recognized internationally—now it’s happening.”

I’ve always believed you can’t be a prophet in your own land.

The turning point came with my drawing Mystery, created at the tail end of that long, suffocating stretch as I fought to free myself from the grip of stasis. Its completion marked a new plateau. My embrace of a Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic, which began with Entre Sombras in 2022, had reached a higher level, giving me the means to express my authentic voice. That evolution did not go unnoticed.

In March of this year, I was contacted by Dr. Zaynub Zaman, editor of the PRS Review, regarding my submission to the Society’s annual art competition. She told me that my drawing, Mystery, had not been selected, but added, “However, I loved your drawing and would like to use it for something else.” Those words marked the beginning of something far more meaningful. A few weeks later, her follow-up email arrived with an opportunity that would change everything and validate my struggles and sacrifices. She was preparing to launch a new series, In an Artist’s Studio, designed to give readers a glimpse into the creative process—and she wanted me to help introduce it.

In the end, it wasn’t about winning—it was about being seen and being understood.

Suddenly, four decades of effort and sacrifice took on new meaning. In an Artist’s Studio was originally planned as a modest two-page spread: a short introduction to my work accompanied by four drawings. The request was for 500 words, but that could never contain my decades-long obsession with the Pre-Raphaelites. After wrestling with the limitations, I reached out to Dr. Zaman, who graciously doubled the word count. That expansion gave me the room not only to chart my journey, but also to make a clear, definitive statement about who I am as an artist—something that was long overdue.

For the next three months, I waited with bated breath, wondering how the published feature would take shape and hoping my words and drawings would translate on the page. The result exceeded every expectation: six full pages showcasing my work as never before. Every line, every word, every stroke found its place. Back in March, I could never have imagined what I now hold in my hands.

The picture that adorns this post, Beautiful Rebellion, is an expression of transformation and defiance—a continuation of the path my work has taken since 2022. In that time, my art has undergone a crucial shift. I have embraced an aesthetic that allows me to speak in my authentic voice, while making clear that my work is rooted in the tradition of hand-drawn art. I draw on paper with ink; I am a draughtsman, and that will never change. As AI and digital images proliferate, the hunger for hand-drawn work will only grow. People want art made with genuine intent, work that speaks to the heart and mind, created with a higher purpose beyond commodification.

Visually, I drew inspiration from Dante Gabriel Rossetti, painter, poet, and co-founder of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. His women are unmistakable: abundant hair, full sensual lips, and that iconic heavy-lidded gaze so prevalent throughout the work of the PRB. Yet Beautiful Rebellion is layered with more than Rossetti’s influence. William Morris also enters the picture. His 1866 wallpaper design, Fruit, plays a crucial role in my drawing and its story of transformation. The thrush perched in the corner adds its own voice to the piece—an emblem of the inner fulfillment I have found through committing to this chosen path. Beautiful Rebellion is a complete statement: this is who I am.

In many ways, it stands as the clearest expression of where my journey has brought me. It carries the echoes of Rossetti, Morris, and the mythic symbols they cherished, but it also declares my refusal to bow to the belief that technology is the only way forward. That defiance—my insistence on embracing tradition and reshaping it into something through which my authentic voice can shine—is precisely what made the PRS Review feature so meaningful. Seeing my work presented in those six pages was not only validation, but also proof that the long struggle had forged something enduring.

Decades of struggle have led me here, but this is not the end of the road. In an Artist’s Studio is proof that I was right to defy compromise and hold out for world-class recognition. I have found my voice—and what comes next will not be louder merely, but undeniable.

 

Back On The Edge

Otis Parsons 1985 Catalog

Forty years ago, I stood on the edge of the most significant chapter of my young life—preparing to move to Los Angeles to attend Otis Art Institute of Parsons School of Design. I was nineteen—naïve, brimming with piss and vinegar—and hell-bent on getting into Parsons’ exchange program so I could study at the American College in Paris. My nerves were on fire, but I knew this was the step I had to take. Even then, before I could name it, I carried the same thing I carry now: the unshakable belief that world-class was the only option.

Not everything went as planned—when Parsons didn’t work out, I headed to San Francisco the following year to attend the Academy of Art College, where I completed my education in 1992. Despite the passage of time, my obstinance and resolve haven’t faded. Today, I’m back on that edge—older, sharper, and feeling the same electric hum under my skin.

Academy of Art Logo

That edge I’m standing on now has a name: Drawing the Pre-Raphaelites, a five-page article in the summer 2025 issue of the Pre-Raphaelite Society’s journal, the PRS Review. It’s a milestone that reaches straight back to that nineteen-year-old in Los Angeles, chasing a vision. This article is more than recognition—it’s an ode to the resolve and defiance that have carried me through every hurdle since 1985, and a tribute to my unwavering conviction. Being recognized by the Society feels like coming full circle while still stepping forward.

In those five pages, I share my journey with the Pre-Raphaelites: how it began, the influences that shaped it, and why I work the way I do. It’s a look into the process, the persistence, and the vision I’ve chased for decades. For me, it’s not just about embracing a Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic—it’s about bringing my vision to fruition, giving my authentic voice its place, and expressing a global point of view. Following the example of my hero, Sir Edward Burne-Jones, and his brother-in-arms, designer William Morris, I push back against the status quo through beauty and reason.

Summer 2025 PRS Review

The Pre-Raphaelite Society was founded in October 1988 by the Provost of Birmingham Cathedral, the late very reverend Berry, M.A.

The aims of the Pre-Raphaelite Society are:

“To promote the study of the works and lives of, and also to promote the wider appreciation of, the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and their successorslocally, nationally and internationally; to publish, or encourage publication of, writings relating to the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhoodand their successors; to hold meetings, confrences and seminarsof members and others who have an interestin the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and their successors and to arrange visits to places of local, national and international interest; and to co-operate with other societies with similar objectives.”

For further information, visit the Pre-Raphaelite Society’s website by clicking here

Vision and Beauty: Part 3

A Vision Fulfilled

In the summer of 2022, I experienced a fundamental change. Reading The Radical Vision of Edward Burne-Jones finally gave me the clarity and purpose I had been searching for. Inspired by Andrea Wolk Rager’s brilliant reevaluation of Burne-Jones’s oeuvre, I made the decision I had delayed for years: to fully embrace the Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic that had enthralled me for years.

My commitment wasn’t limited to the Brotherhood alone. I also drew inspiration from the artists and designers of the fin de siècle and the Symbolists, who carried the Pre-Raphaelites’ ideals forward. I understood this was a significant moment — the turning point I had been working toward. And yet, as always, I knew that developing my vision, grounded in these traditions, would take time.

The Radical Vision of Edward Burne-Jones

Caught up in the momentum of that decision, I created my first work, Entre Sombras, in what I now recognize as my mature style. Inspired by a portrait of Maria Zambaco by Burne-Jones, Entre Sombras was the first step — a proclamation in pen and ink: this is who I am.

Entre Sombras was not just a drawing. Much like Christopher Wood’s book The Pre-Raphaelites, which had set me on this path all those years ago, it was a sign in the road — a moment when I could finally say: I had arrived at the work I had always sought to create.

Since then, every piece I’ve made has carried forward that same intention: to use the visual language of the Pre-Raphaelites to explore my interests through a contemporary lens, and to do so with the level of care and mastery their legacy demands. The vision I had at eighteen has gone beyond influence; it’s become my identity. Now, that journey has brought me to a new milestone.

The best is yet to come.