As a child, my mind was a realm of boundless imagination, where I mastered the art of playing pretend. Fueled by a need to construct make-believe worlds, I armed myself with a record player, smurf figurines, and an army of shoelace dolls I affectionately called String People. In the midst of TV shows featuring strong female leads, I envisioned a safe world where I was the star—accepted and adored. As the youngest of seven to a father who was a former Franciscan Monk, my real world diverged significantly, but music, drawing, and my string dolls provided a safety net, giving me purpose.
Upon entering art school at FIT in 1992, I embarked on a journey of artistic exploration, uncertain of the path I would take. My major was fine arts, yet I seized opportunities to dabble in jewelry, fashion, and photography. Photography, in particular, captivated me, offering a sense of empowerment as I controlled the subject and manipulated the image in the darkroom. Amid the era of Supermodels and the electrifying world of fashion, commuting from Long Island to NYC for school became a therapeutic escape, a place where I felt unbreakable, belonging for the first time. My fantasy and real world collided within the vibrant creative community of that exciting time and place.
Post-FIT, I earned acceptance into The Parsons School of Design for photography—an exhilarating prospect that I ultimately chose not to pursue. Opting instead to delve into the fashion industry, I honed my unique style of painting, integrating influences from fashion, film, and music. Over the years, my artistic style evolved, but my focus remained constant: each piece became a suit of divine and devilish armor, a manifestation of my strength.
In a twist of fate, photography reemerged in my artistic journey during road trip excursions. Documenting bleak and run-down areas with my iPhone unintentionally became a new form of artistic expression. This unexpected return to photography allowed me to explore the convergence of structure and nature, inspiring narratives of loneliness and heartache to surface. Showcasing the abandoned and broken became a therapeutic process, resonating with the spirit of my younger self.
The name for my recent collection crystallized only recently. Using painting as a form of therapy, I aimed to embrace my femininity as a biological gay male. Scouring fashion magazines and drawing inspiration from TV and music, I found muses to create characters that exuded both threat and elegance. Back in 90's NYC, as I ventured into bars, clubs, and concerts, the act of getting ready became an integral part of the experience—sometimes presenting as male, sometimes as female. One such character, Alizarin Crimson, emerged as a warrior dominatrix, embodying poise and elegance with a touch of threat. Each image in this style represents the embodiment of Alizarin, a character I fashioned for my female persona. Each face carries its own name and identity but lives under the umbrella of Alizarin Crimson, granting me permission to be authentically me.
Email : tchrisoleary@gmail.com
linktr.ee/chrisolearyart
IG: @chrisolearyartAs a child, my mind was a realm of boundless imagination, where I mastered the art of playing pretend. Fueled by a need to construct make-believe worlds, I armed myself with a record player, smurf figurines, and an army of shoelace dolls I affectionately called String People. In the midst of TV shows featuring strong female leads like Dance Fever and Solid Gold, I envisioned a safe world where I was the star—accepted and adored. As the youngest of seven to a father who was a former Franciscan Monk, my real world diverged significantly, but music, drawing, and my string dolls provided a safety net, giving me purpose.
Upon entering art school at FIT in 1992, I embarked on a journey of artistic exploration, uncertain of the path I would take. My major was fine arts, yet I seized opportunities to dabble in jewelry, fashion, and photography. Photography, in particular, captivated me, offering a sense of empowerment as I controlled the subject and manipulated the image in the darkroom. Amid the era of Supermodels and the electrifying world of fashion, commuting from Long Island to NYC for school became a therapeutic escape, a place where I felt unbreakable, belonging for the first time. My fantasy and real world collided within the vibrant creative community of that exciting time and place.
Post-FIT, I earned acceptance into The Parsons School of Design for photography—an exhilarating prospect that I ultimately chose not to pursue. Opting instead to delve into the fashion industry, I honed my unique style of painting, integrating influences from fashion, film, and music. Over the years, my artistic style evolved, but my focus remained constant: each piece became a suit of divine and devilish armor, a manifestation of my strength.
In a twist of fate, photography reemerged in my artistic journey during road trip excursions. Documenting bleak and run-down areas with my iPhone unintentionally became a new form of artistic expression. This unexpected return to photography allowed me to explore the convergence of structure and nature, inspiring narratives of loneliness and heartache to surface. Showcasing the abandoned and broken became a therapeutic process, resonating with the spirit of my younger self.
The name for my recent collection crystallized only recently. Using painting as a form of therapy, I aimed to embrace my femininity as a biological gay male. Scouring fashion magazines and drawing inspiration from TV and music, I found muses to create characters that exuded both threat and elegance. Back in 90's NYC, as I ventured into bars, clubs, and concerts, the act of getting ready became an integral part of the experience—sometimes presenting as male, sometimes as female. One such character, Alizarin Crimson, emerged as a warrior dominatrix, embodying poise and elegance with a touch of threat. Each image in this style represents the embodiment of Alizarin, a character I fashioned for my female persona. Each face carries its own name and identity but lives under the umbrella of Alizarin Crimson, granting me permission to be authentically me.
Upon entering art school at FIT in 1992, I embarked on a journey of artistic exploration, uncertain of the path I would take. My major was fine arts, yet I seized opportunities to dabble in jewelry, fashion, and photography. Photography, in particular, captivated me, offering a sense of empowerment as I controlled the subject and manipulated the image in the darkroom. Amid the era of Supermodels and the electrifying world of fashion, commuting from Long Island to NYC for school became a therapeutic escape, a place where I felt unbreakable, belonging for the first time. My fantasy and real world collided within the vibrant creative community of that exciting time and place.
Post-FIT, I earned acceptance into The Parsons School of Design for photography—an exhilarating prospect that I ultimately chose not to pursue. Opting instead to delve into the fashion industry, I honed my unique style of painting, integrating influences from fashion, film, and music. Over the years, my artistic style evolved, but my focus remained constant: each piece became a suit of divine and devilish armor, a manifestation of my strength.
In a twist of fate, photography reemerged in my artistic journey during road trip excursions. Documenting bleak and run-down areas with my iPhone unintentionally became a new form of artistic expression. This unexpected return to photography allowed me to explore the convergence of structure and nature, inspiring narratives of loneliness and heartache to surface. Showcasing the abandoned and broken became a therapeutic process, resonating with the spirit of my younger self.
The name for my recent collection crystallized only recently. Using painting as a form of therapy, I aimed to embrace my femininity as a biological gay male. Scouring fashion magazines and drawing inspiration from TV and music, I found muses to create characters that exuded both threat and elegance. Back in 90's NYC, as I ventured into bars, clubs, and concerts, the act of getting ready became an integral part of the experience—sometimes presenting as male, sometimes as female. One such character, Alizarin Crimson, emerged as a warrior dominatrix, embodying poise and elegance with a touch of threat. Each image in this style represents the embodiment of Alizarin, a character I fashioned for my female persona. Each face carries its own name and identity but lives under the umbrella of Alizarin Crimson, granting me permission to be authentically me.
Email : tchrisoleary@gmail.com
linktr.ee/chrisolearyart
IG: @chrisolearyartAs a child, my mind was a realm of boundless imagination, where I mastered the art of playing pretend. Fueled by a need to construct make-believe worlds, I armed myself with a record player, smurf figurines, and an army of shoelace dolls I affectionately called String People. In the midst of TV shows featuring strong female leads like Dance Fever and Solid Gold, I envisioned a safe world where I was the star—accepted and adored. As the youngest of seven to a father who was a former Franciscan Monk, my real world diverged significantly, but music, drawing, and my string dolls provided a safety net, giving me purpose.
Upon entering art school at FIT in 1992, I embarked on a journey of artistic exploration, uncertain of the path I would take. My major was fine arts, yet I seized opportunities to dabble in jewelry, fashion, and photography. Photography, in particular, captivated me, offering a sense of empowerment as I controlled the subject and manipulated the image in the darkroom. Amid the era of Supermodels and the electrifying world of fashion, commuting from Long Island to NYC for school became a therapeutic escape, a place where I felt unbreakable, belonging for the first time. My fantasy and real world collided within the vibrant creative community of that exciting time and place.
Post-FIT, I earned acceptance into The Parsons School of Design for photography—an exhilarating prospect that I ultimately chose not to pursue. Opting instead to delve into the fashion industry, I honed my unique style of painting, integrating influences from fashion, film, and music. Over the years, my artistic style evolved, but my focus remained constant: each piece became a suit of divine and devilish armor, a manifestation of my strength.
In a twist of fate, photography reemerged in my artistic journey during road trip excursions. Documenting bleak and run-down areas with my iPhone unintentionally became a new form of artistic expression. This unexpected return to photography allowed me to explore the convergence of structure and nature, inspiring narratives of loneliness and heartache to surface. Showcasing the abandoned and broken became a therapeutic process, resonating with the spirit of my younger self.
The name for my recent collection crystallized only recently. Using painting as a form of therapy, I aimed to embrace my femininity as a biological gay male. Scouring fashion magazines and drawing inspiration from TV and music, I found muses to create characters that exuded both threat and elegance. Back in 90's NYC, as I ventured into bars, clubs, and concerts, the act of getting ready became an integral part of the experience—sometimes presenting as male, sometimes as female. One such character, Alizarin Crimson, emerged as a warrior dominatrix, embodying poise and elegance with a touch of threat. Each image in this style represents the embodiment of Alizarin, a character I fashioned for my female persona. Each face carries its own name and identity but lives under the umbrella of Alizarin Crimson, granting me permission to be authentically me.