Custom, Hand-Painted Pieces That Move
Every project begins with a conversation — sometimes a sketchy idea, sometimes a fully formed vision. I love that early stage of discovery, where I get to understand not just what the client wants, but why. Whether it’s a helmet that reflects their love of wildflowers, or a surfboard that channels the colors of a favorite beach at sunset, I listen closely and help shape their ideas into something visual, vibrant, and deeply personal.
About the project
I specialize in creating bold, hand-illustrated designs on objects that move through the world — helmets, motorcycle tanks, surfboards, skateboards, sneakers, and more. Each piece is painted by hand using Posca markers and finished with protective coatings, ensuring that the artwork is not only eye-catching but also built to last. These aren’t just designs — they’re functional pieces of art meant to be worn, used, and loved.
The Story
There’s something deeply satisfying about seeing the final piece come to life — not just as an object, but as something someone wears, rides, or lives with. It’s art in motion. It gets scuffed, sun-faded, admired, and remembered. That’s the beauty of functional design: it doesn’t just sit on a wall — it becomes part of someone’s story.
Once we land on a direction, the real fun begins. I work directly on the object — shoes, tanks, helmets, boards — hand-illustrating the design using tools like Posca markers and brushwork, adapting to the unique curves and surfaces of each piece. This part is both creative and technical: planning for durability, movement, and wear while letting the artwork breathe and evolve organically. No two pieces are ever the same — and that’s the point.
Obsidian Garden
I didn’t design this helmet just for protection. I built it to carry a part of me. The black is more than color—it’s memory. Matte like cooled lava, with hidden textures that bloom under light. Flowers etched in shadow. And if you look closely, a silver snake winds through the petals, quiet and watchful.I dreamed it after a crash that should’ve ended me. In that dream, I stood in a garden made of ash and glass—roses with metal thorns, vines that whispered, and a serpent that said, “You’re not broken. You’re becoming.”
Now I wear that dream. My Obsidian Garden. A reminder that beauty can rise from darkness—and carry fangs.
Flor y Furia
I painted this helmet to honor those who still ride with me, even if I can’t see them. At its heart, a calavera — a Day of the Dead skull — looks ahead, bold and unafraid. It’s not about death. It’s about presence. Around it, flowers bloom in bursts of color, like little suns lighting the way. Every petal carries a story. Every shade, a heartbeat. When I ride, I feel my parents close, always watching, always protecting.
This isn’t just a helmet — it’s a moving altar, a tribute carried on two wheels. Flor y Furia — flower and fury — because love, like memory, never stops riding with me.
Ashbite
If my helmet is memory, this tank is transformation. The skull on the tank isn’t just a symbol of death — it’s consuming the silver snake, the same one that coils between the flowers on my helmet. It’s not violence. It’s a claiming. A turning point. This is where the fear gets swallowed. Where instinct becomes will. The bone is cracked, weathered, still grinning. Flowers bloom around it like defiance. They’ve seen fire and kept growing. Just like me. I call it Ashbite — the moment where past pain stops haunting and starts feeding something new. The serpent taught me to watch. The skull reminds me to bite back.