It's Me...Cynthia
I've always been a storyteller.
 

As an only child, my mom wanted to literally crawl inside me and walk around. There was no getting away with,

"It was fine." She wanted everything. Where did I go? Who was there? What did they wear? What did I eat? What did it smell like? Who did I talk to? What did we talk about? How long did I stay? Who was nice? Who wasn't? Without realizing it, she taught me to observe, pay attention, remember the details, and then tell the story—with a lot of humor, a little sass, and a perspective all my own.

Looking back, I think that's where everything began. "You always tell the best stories."

Years later, more than a decade as an entertainment publicist in Los Angeles sharpened those instincts and added something else—a world-class BS detector. After watching carefully crafted images, spun stories, and polished public personas, I learned to separate substance from spectacle. I always look for the story behind the story and can usually spot the "tells" others miss.

When the world began changing in January 2020, I decided to leave behind the crazy LA publicist persona and become a full-time artist. Art had always been my refuge—a place where I could listen, think, plan, and dream. Looking for new inspiration, I decided to paint a commentary on the world as I saw it.

I picked up a paintbrush.

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One canvas became another, then another, until I realized something that hadn't occurred to me before.

I'm not just a painter. I'm a storyteller who paints—a passionate chronicler of our times.

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I call it the Art of the Story. Every painting begins long before the first brushstroke. It begins with research, observation, and one simple question: What story will history remember? From there, I weave the political, social, economic, and cultural zeitgeist of that moment in history into a single composition.

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I don't paint headlines.

I paint snapshots in time.

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Each painting captures the political, social, economic, and cultural zeitgeist of its moment. Some are historic. Some are heartbreaking. Some are inspiring. Some are so absurd you couldn't make them up if you tried.

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History has a wicked sense of humor.

​​So do I.

​Every painting begins with research.

I compare sources, follow stories as they unfold, and decide what belongs on the canvas.  From politics and world affairs to economics, popular culture, triumphs, tragedies, and life's unexpected twists, every subject has a place in the Chronicle because together they tell the story of our time.

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Throughout history there have been those who sought to document history through art and words. One of my earliest inspirations came from King Alfred the Great, who commissioned artists and scribes to record the defining events of his era. That simple idea—to preserve history while it is still unfolding—has stayed with me ever since.

Every two weeks, without fail, another painting is added to the Chronicle. One painting. One snapshot in time. Together they form a living historical archive.

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Like every long journey, this one has had its share of personal challenges. Through it all, one thing never changed.

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I kept painting.

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If you spend enough time with my work, you'll discover visual puns, hidden imagery, symbolism, political color cues, and details that reward a second—or tenth—look. I like paintings that keep revealing themselves. I'm endlessly curious, observant, and irreverent when the moment calls for it. I trust my instincts, call things as I see them, and never paint to tell people what to think. I paint to make people stop, look closer, decide for themselves, and start a conversation.

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The News of Today is the History of Tomorrow.

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What began as a single canvas has grown into Chronicle of an Unquiet Age—a living historical archive capturing the zeitgeist of our time, one painting at a time.

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Welcome to the Chronicle.