thejournalofash:

ash's entries

Welcome to my debut exhibition,

Becoming Ash

"If you think about it, this took me 20 years to create. I hope this serves as a reflection of just how much goes into a childhood's becoming. "


Becoming Ash transforms my childhood bedroom into an archive of creative development, bringing together art I’ve made while growing up in Bentonville, Arkansas. Three pieces—Drawing in my Bed, Sketchbook on my Nightstand, and Painting at my Desk—are each composed of artwork created throughout my adolescence and layered over my childhood furniture. The installation asks a simple question: What does it take to grow an artist? Growing up without formal art instruction and amid financial instability, I attribute my artistic foundation to the place that made sustained creativity possible. This work reflects how time, access, and opportunity within a community shaped my artistic practice long before I recognized it as a career.



After going viral in 2020, @thejournalofash allowed me to transform a lifelong passion into a sustainable artistic practice, connecting my work with an audience beyond Northwest Arkansas. My childhood bedroom becomes both a personal archive and a reflection of Bentonville: a place where sustained investment in culture, entrepreneurship, and creative access can shape not only individual artists, but also the communities they help imagine. Becoming Ash considers creativity as infrastructure and asks what becomes possible when a community decides that a child's imagination is worth investing in.

Drawing in My Bed

Pencils/pens over sheet paper over childhood bed

Sketchbook on My Nightstand

Sketchbooks on childhood nightstand




Painting at My Desk

Acrylic on Canvas layered over childhood desk/whiteboard 

Underdogs of Ash

"The one thing I do that nobody else does is jump three and four times for one rebound." -Dennis Rodman (my childhood hero)

Bronzed Bull. 2025

Acrylic on Canvas

Rodman. 2023

Acrylic on Canvas

Acrylic on canvas. RODMAN serves as a portrait of Dennis Rodman, my childhood hero. Growing up playing competitive sports in Arkansas, I looked up to Dennis Rodman because of his physicality and sheer work ethic. Following him into my teenage years, I grew an appreciation for his unapologetic style and openness about mental health. During a period when I had grown to resent the sport that once defined much of my identity, this piece became less about basketball than about questioning the systems through which we assign value. Rodman emerged as a figure who resisted those systems. RODMAN asks what becomes possible when identity is no longer measured by visibility, achievement, or the roles we are expected to perform, but by the willingness to inhabit ourselves without apology.

WILDCAT. 2026

Acrylic on canvas.

Acrylic on canvas. As a child, I could always find my father in a crowd. Standing 6'3", bald, muscular, and proudly Mexican American, he was impossible to overlook. He jokingly referred to himself as the "Bronzed Bull," a nickname that became the foundation for this portrait. In Bronzed Bull, the bull serves as a symbol of my father's strength, resilience, and unwavering instinct to protect those he loves. Perched on his shoulder is a cardinal, representing his mother, whose presence continues to accompany him after her passing. Together, the two figures explore the ways grief, memory, and ancestry remain intertwined with cultural identity. 



Acrylic on canvas. As a student-athlete at Davidson College, I’ve experienced firsthand the legacy of Stephen Curry. His career demonstrated that greatness is not determined by where one begins, but by the ability to redefine the expectations placed upon them. In Wildcat, Curry is portrayed in his Davidson jersey at the brink of transformation. His likeness dissolves into the surrounding surface, reflecting the impermanence of athletic identity. For most athletes, the jersey eventually becomes a memory, a chapter rather than a destination. For a rare few, it becomes the beginning of something larger. Created from the perspective of a fellow Davidson student-athlete, the work reflects on the uncertain space where potential exists before recognition. It asks viewers to consider how overlooked people and places often become the ones that redefine what success looks like.


Testimonies of Ash

My relationship with faith is deeply connected to my Hispanic Catholic heritage, as a major piece of my testimony pays tribute to my Grama Isa and Great Grama Nonnie. Their faith was colorful, raw, and exemplified God's unwavering love in a way I never could quite put into words.


My faith journey began in high school, shortly after my Grama Isa passed. A good four years later at Davidson College, I confirmed my infant baptism, accepting Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior! In the months leading up to my confirmation, these pieces were my vessel to express my internal navigation with the Trinity and generational spirituality.

Butterflies. 2026

Trinity. 2026

Current Works:

Reflecting Girlhood


These pieces serve as inspiration for my next series, Reflecting Girlhood. I aim to share the experiences of the female athlete through my art, touching on topics I have experienced in the process of becoming a Division 1 athlete in the only sport I didn't take seriously in my adolescence. This will hopefully serve to bring awareness to all of the highs and lows of female sports, ranging from imposter syndrome, performance anxiety, athletic beauty standards, female team culture, building confidence, and lifelong friendships.

MOWNCHILLA, 2026

18 1/4 × 9 5/8 inches.

Acrylic on canvas.


Mownchilla, a portrait of my younger self, raised in an environment where femininity felt limitless. Most days, I got to be a boxer, artist, and princess, all at once. Mownch protests a world where this isn't the norm. Fighting in my childhood dresses wasn’t always functional, but later taught me that self-protection is rarely needed in the times we feel prepared. This piece aims to redefine the possibilities for females in America when their girlhood is protected. 

Shotput shoulders

18 1/4 × 9 5/8 inches.

Charcoal on paper.