About

Greetings, in the name of Qedamawi Haile Selassie

Growing up as the only son among seven children in a small two-bedroom apartment in New York, life was loud and crowded, but with my mother there, those early years were my best years. When I was seven years old, she brought home a simple roll of tracing paper. As I traced cartoons, a quiet doorway opened. I realized right then that lines on paper could feel like a secret language with the universe.

My father had passed away previously, and when I was eight, my mother transitioned. Our world changed overnight, and life suddenly became about constant survival mode. My aunt flew in from Antigua—where both she and my mother were born—to care for us and bring us back to the island.

Living in Antigua was the ultimate school of hard knocks. I bounced around like a basketball, just trying to survive day to day. Yet, the seeds of wisdom, books, and creativity that the divine used my mother to plant in me stayed rooted deep inside. Even in the roughest moments, I kept sketching. I was on a personal mission to answer one core question: Does the Creator really exist, or am I out here alone?

That search stayed with me through my high school years in St. Croix and eventually led me to gravitate toward the principles of Rastafari before I returned to New York to master the art.

People often think technical skill is just something you're born with, but I've got a different take—mastery is built through discipline, patience, and studying thyself to show thyself approved. I grounded my technique at the Art Students League, through semesters at the School of Visual Arts, and under the private mentorship of Russian Master Jacob Torrossian. Studying Renaissance principles and Rembrandt’s chiaroscuro technique taught me how to paint light stepping out from the deepest shadows—a reminder that our admiration for the Creator's handiwork should include all that is good and all that is beautiful.

What sets these portraits apart is a commitment to sacred lineage over personal ego. Each piece isn't rooted in commercial gallery hype, but in a disciplined, multi-layered devotional process that bridges classical European master techniques with roots spirituality. Rather than sitting on a wall as decoration, these portraits serve as living vessels designed to open meaningful dialogue around human equality, collective security, and the teachings of Haile Selassie I. Through every carefully applied layer of acrylic, a quiet, divine dignity is captured—radiating peace, character, and a personal experience with Jah straight into your space.

My art exists because the mainstream art world so often feels cold, distant, and obsessed with superficial status. My mission is simple: to create a space for those who believe that art should move the spirit, honor our shared humanity, and use these pieces to enhance the home while serving as a reminder that we all belong to one human family under Jah.

More than just owning a painting, it's about joining a movement of character, faith, and spiritual liberation to leave a true moral blueprint for the next generation.

When you stand in front of these pieces, my hope isn't that you focus on me as the artist. I hope to bring people into a personal experience with JAH.

Blessings, Ras Troy