Gullah Sunset
Alright, let’s get real for a second—I’m from Southeastern North Carolina, a librarian by trade, and yeah, I’d say I’m a pretty interesting guy. But more than anything, I love where I’m from and the rich culture that shaped me. One part of that culture that doesn’t get nearly the love it deserves? Gullah. It’s an African American culture from the coastal South Carolina and Georgia Lowcountry, full of history, language, and traditions—and it’s disappearing, which, let’s be honest, is a damn crime.
So this painting? This is my love letter to Gullah culture. I pieced it together from a bunch of photos that really spoke to me. You’ve got a family sitting on a breezy porch, weaving baskets, reading, and just being. There’s warmth in the scene—the oranges of the setting sun, the green marshes stretching out toward a little cabin in the distance, and a towering oak tree draped with Spanish moss. The whole thing feels like a moment frozen in time, a slice of life that deserves to be remembered.
Perfect for anyone who loves history, the Lowcountry, or just a painting with real heart. This isn’t just art—it’s a celebration of a culture that matters. Hang it up, and let it remind you that preserving stories—whether in books or on canvas—is what keeps us connected to where we’re from.
Because some things shouldn’t be forgotten.
Alright, let’s get real for a second—I’m from Southeastern North Carolina, a librarian by trade, and yeah, I’d say I’m a pretty interesting guy. But more than anything, I love where I’m from and the rich culture that shaped me. One part of that culture that doesn’t get nearly the love it deserves? Gullah. It’s an African American culture from the coastal South Carolina and Georgia Lowcountry, full of history, language, and traditions—and it’s disappearing, which, let’s be honest, is a damn crime.
So this painting? This is my love letter to Gullah culture. I pieced it together from a bunch of photos that really spoke to me. You’ve got a family sitting on a breezy porch, weaving baskets, reading, and just being. There’s warmth in the scene—the oranges of the setting sun, the green marshes stretching out toward a little cabin in the distance, and a towering oak tree draped with Spanish moss. The whole thing feels like a moment frozen in time, a slice of life that deserves to be remembered.
Perfect for anyone who loves history, the Lowcountry, or just a painting with real heart. This isn’t just art—it’s a celebration of a culture that matters. Hang it up, and let it remind you that preserving stories—whether in books or on canvas—is what keeps us connected to where we’re from.
Because some things shouldn’t be forgotten.
Alright, let’s get real for a second—I’m from Southeastern North Carolina, a librarian by trade, and yeah, I’d say I’m a pretty interesting guy. But more than anything, I love where I’m from and the rich culture that shaped me. One part of that culture that doesn’t get nearly the love it deserves? Gullah. It’s an African American culture from the coastal South Carolina and Georgia Lowcountry, full of history, language, and traditions—and it’s disappearing, which, let’s be honest, is a damn crime.
So this painting? This is my love letter to Gullah culture. I pieced it together from a bunch of photos that really spoke to me. You’ve got a family sitting on a breezy porch, weaving baskets, reading, and just being. There’s warmth in the scene—the oranges of the setting sun, the green marshes stretching out toward a little cabin in the distance, and a towering oak tree draped with Spanish moss. The whole thing feels like a moment frozen in time, a slice of life that deserves to be remembered.
Perfect for anyone who loves history, the Lowcountry, or just a painting with real heart. This isn’t just art—it’s a celebration of a culture that matters. Hang it up, and let it remind you that preserving stories—whether in books or on canvas—is what keeps us connected to where we’re from.
Because some things shouldn’t be forgotten.
