ABOUT

I paint what people overlook. A Rubik’s Cube. A simple cross. A rotary phone. These aren’t just objects—they’re quiet witnesses. They hold memory, tension, faith, and patterns I keep coming back to, like a language I’ve known since childhood.

Growing up as the youngest of a large family in a small house, I learned early how to disappear. Drawing became my way of carving out space—not just to be seen, but to see. Where others argued, I sketched. What got tossed aside, I picked up and studied. It was never about making pretty things. It was my way of getting a word in edgewise.

That’s still what drives me. I’m drawn to the ordinary—the stuff we walk past without a second glance—because when you really look, there’s always more there. Attention changes things. My materials are old-school (oil, graphite, charcoal), but I’m not trying to romanticize the past. Those Renaissance techniques and liturgical symbols I love? I use them to talk about now—about who we are, how we’re built, and what we cling to.

My other career—as an Emmy Award-winning actor—taught me some of the same lessons: how a raised eyebrow can say more than a monologue, how presence isn’t about being the loudest in the room. Now, in the studio, I’m after that same kind of quiet power—work that doesn’t shout, but makes you lean in closer.

Based in LA, I create paintings that have found homes in both private and public collections across the U.S.—including in my hometown of Monroe, Louisiana, at the Northeast Louisiana Delta African-American Heritage Museum and the Monroe Municipal Courthouse. I make art that’s unapologetically personal. Because here’s the truth: when I pay attention to these overlooked things, they start paying attention back—to me, to you, to all of us just trying to be seen.

My goal? To make work that lasts longer than I do. Work that says: Hey—look again.

-Monti Sharp