Lions Not Sheep

2024

Acrylic, Oil, Spray Paint, Krink Pen on canvas 

48 x 60

$10,500

She lounges in her gilded cage-a penthouse jungle of silk sheets and crown molding, luxury dripping from every corner. The Birkins by her bedside are a quiet trophy; the checkered floor beneath her, a chessboard of desire and power. But tonight, the game is already won.

A tiger straddles her back, fangs sinking into her neck, blood spilling like a signature in red ink. She is woman and goat at once-the sacrificial lamb with the curves of a temptress, caught between prey and seductress, between surrender and provocation. Her halo hovers stubbornly above her head, cracked but glowing, a wink at the divine in the midst of destruction.

This isn’t just a kill-it’s a coronation. The tiger isn’t hunting for food; it’s claiming territory, proving dominion. 

Powerful people impress and intimidate by saying less. The more you say, the more common you appear.” And the tiger? It says nothing. It acts. It takes.

The painting whispers a brutal truth: you’re either predator or prey, in the boardroom, in the bedroom, in the wild dance of life.

The goat-woman, beautiful and doomed, represents the conformist-the one who played by the rules, dressed the part, built the pretty room, only to find the jungle came for her anyway.

The tiger? The tiger is the dreamer who refused the herd, who prowled outside the fences, who dared to break in and claim the kingdom. It’s the raw, unapologetic hunger of the alpha, knowing that to feast, you must first refuse to kneel.