There’s something about 3:33am.
The time itself feels like a whisper — not quite night, not yet morning. A space suspended between the conscious and the hidden. That’s where this show was born. That’s where I’ve often found myself, wide awake, tangled in thoughts too heavy for daylight.
On March 22, I opened 3:33am, my second solo exhibition, at The Jazz Gallery Center for the Arts in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. It features nine works — stories, really — each one a fragment of grief, memory, intuition, and identity. The show runs through May 10th.
“3:33am was a conversation with everything I’ve lost — and everything I’ve become.”
This collection invites viewers into that quiet hour when thoughts echo louder, when dreams bleed into the edges of waking life. Inspired by the numerological symbolism of 3:33 — trust, creativity, growth — the work explores the tension between what we reveal and what we keep hidden. Between what could’ve been and what remains.
The Making of 3:33am
As the ideas for this show came together, I kept asking:
Am I the version of myself I see in my mind — or the one the world reflects back to me?
Grief cracks that mirror. It reshapes time, bends memory. After losing my only child in my mid-20s, I often find myself asking who I’d be with her here. Those thoughts rise like steam in the night — images, questions, doubts.
“What wakes you at 3:33am? What keeps you from falling asleep?”
That question shaped this show. For me, the answer is rumination. Overthinking.
Am I doing enough? Should I be further along? Am I behind?
In 2024, I began to answer some of those feelings in a conceptual piece (Making Wishes 2024. See Here ) I created for the This is America group show at 5 Points Art Gallery and Studios. That work taught me how to use art not just as expression — but as excavation. It showed me how to go deeper, to say something personal without being literal. That practice opened the door for 3:33am. I stopped trying to make “pretty” work and started letting the work say what it needed to.
My Hands at Work
I’ve always loved dolls — you know this. But this time, I wanted to shift them. Not a doll show, I told myself. More like… echoes. Presences. Spirits.
In Keep the Haints Off Me: a witch ready to ride, the form is almost a doll — but not quite. She’s twisted, pushed, pulled into something otherworldly. The base process was the same: sketch, cut, sand, paint — but I didn’t want to be precious. I leaned into the roughness. Let the wood speak. Let the lines waver. My graphic design brain usually craves control, symmetry. But this time, I let go.
“I leaned into imperfection for this show.”
Some pieces were edited down to their essence. In Hello Josephine (2025), I originally imagined a full doll holding a mirror to her face. Instead, I chose just the mirror. A painted portrait. A bouquet of fabric flowers. No hands, no body — just the reflection. And somehow, the message came through clearer than I could’ve planned.
Sound & Spirit
For the opening, I asked my friend Pedro Gutierrez — artist, pianist, and kindred spirit — to walk the show and respond to each piece through music. He played throughout the night, letting the mood of each work shape his melodies. It made the gallery feel like a dream you didn’t want to leave.
Visit the Exhibit
3:33am is on view at The Jazz Gallery Center for the Arts
📍 926 East Center Street, Milwaukee, WI
🕐 Thurs–Sat | 1pm–5pm through May 10th
If you can, come see it in person. Walk slowly. Let the pieces speak to you.
“These aren’t just artworks — they’re conversations I’ve been too afraid to say out loud.”
In the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing individual blog posts about each piece — their stories, materials, meanings, and how they came to be. I’d love for you to follow along and reflect with me.
If you’ve visited 3:33am already, what stayed with you after you left?
What wakes you at 3:33am?
