Charros and Ranchero mark a bold new chapter in the cowgirl narrative first explored in my earlier Chaps collection. While Chaps celebrated attitude and silhouette, these new works lean deeper into character—each figure more embodied, more present. There's a shift in tone: from stylized homage to intimate portraiture. Ranchero is sun-bleached and self-assured, a portrait of Western grit without the cliché. Charros, by contrast, carries a slower, more sensual energy—elegant, focused, and quietly commanding. Together, they expand the cowgirl myth into something more personal, cinematic, and unapologetically modern.

Stockman is a stripped-back portrait—earthy, composed, and deliberate. There’s a stoic elegance in his stance, sun-cut lines across weathered skin, and an unshakeable stillness that speaks louder than swagger. By contrast, Stockman Yard opens the frame wider—multiple figures, layered glances, and the raw choreography of men at work. Dust, rope, and grit mingle with body language and gesture, giving the painting a sense of rhythm and repetition, like a moment paused in motion.

Together, these works expand the Western lexicon—not as a trope, but as a study in mood, masculinity, and the myth of the everyday.

A bold ode to wild freedom, Ranchero captures the confident poise of a cowgirl framed by the dusty horizon. With sun-bleached tones, desert greens, and a spirited energy, this work celebrates untamed grit and feminine strength—part daydream, part frontier fable.

Stockman Yard extend the cowhand series with a rugged, masculine counterpoint to the female-led energy of Charros and Ranchero. Where those works leaned into personal power and presence, these new paintings shift the lens to the unspoken camaraderie and quiet authority of the cowboy.