Greek Trapezi
A collection of original oil paintings celebrating the beauty of the Greek table–its fruit, landscapes, traditions, faith, and the memories held in the simple act of gathering together.
Trapezi means table in Greek.
For me, the table is not simply a place to eat.
It is where people return to one another,
and where the memories of home are gathered.
Oil on canvas • 9 × 12 in • 2026
The First Pomegranate
The pomegranate appears again and again throughout Greek Trapezi, carrying associations of abundance, fertility, mythology, and life. In the myth of Persephone, the fruit is bound to both descent and return, making it a symbol not only of loss, but of renewal and the persistence of life.
From this first pomegranate, the rest of the table began to gather.
Oil on canvas • 24 × 30 in • 2026
Down to the Sea
A path winds between old walls toward the water, where boats sit quietly beneath a hazy sky. Down to the Sea expands the world of Greek Trapezi beyond the table and toward the landscape that surrounds it.
I wanted this painting to carry the feeling of walking through a Greek village. I think of the warmth of the cobblestones underfoot, fragrant flowers spilling over a wall, mountains disappearing into the distance, and the sense that the water is always just beyond your reach, lulling you into a sweet reverie.
The pomegranate tree quietly connects the landscape to the rest of the collection, reminding us that the bounty at our table is a gift from the land that surrounds us.
Oil on canvas • 9 × 12 in • 2026
September Pears
Pears arrive at the table just as summer begins to give way to autumn. September Pears is a prelude to the quieter months ahead.
Painted in golden, autumnal tones, it marks the changing season within Greek Trapezi: another small moment of abundance before the table changes again to welcome Fall.
Oil on canvas • 16 × 20 in • 2026
The Gathered Table
Pomegranates, figs, and olives gather beside a painted vase, with the sea appearing through the window beyond them. Together, they create a table made abundant, waiting to be shared.
The Gathered Table is about hospitality and the beauty of bringing ordinary objects – and people – together.
Oil on canvas • 9 × 12 in • 2026
Apples for Saint Irini
Apples for Saint Irini is a painting of gratitude.
In the tradition surrounding Saint Irene Chrysovalantou, blessed apples are associated with her intercession and are received with particular hope by those praying for healing and for children. Saint Irini became profoundly meaningful to me during the years before I became a mother, and I continue to hold a special reverence for her.
These apples are therefore much more than a still-life. I painted them as an offering of love and thanksgiving. They are a loving acknowledgement of prayers once whispered and blessings now sitting at my own table.
Oil on canvas • 16 × 20 in • 2026
A Late Summer Table
Figs and dark grapes mark that fleeting point at the end of summer just before the season begins to turn.
This painting is a meditation on abundance at its most temporary: ripe fruit, warm light, and the quiet melancholy of knowing that beautiful seasons do not last forever. The lighting is hazy, implying the hour just after sunset when the world is quiet and everything is illuminated for just a brief moment more.
Oil on canvas • 9 × 12 in • 2026
Lemons in the Afternoon
Bright lemons sit against the cool blue and white of a familiar bowl, still attached to their leaves as though they have only just been brought inside from someone’s garden.
Lemons in the Afternoon celebrates simplicity: beautiful things placed casually on a table, illuminated for a moment by ordinary afternoon light. There is so much beauty to be found in the mundane moments and there is so much magic to be remembered from these tablescapes.
There is something about a table that holds memory.
I think of the many tables I have sat at throughout my life and the rituals that take place there: fruit placed in a bowl to welcome guests, bread broken and passed from one person to another, dishes appearing almost endlessly, someone insisting you eat a little more. The table is where stories are repeated and where traditions survive. It is where family is created and where memories are gathered.
Greek Trapezi grew from my desire to venerate those memories and to paint that vivid world of belonging.
Throughout the collection, I return to objects and imagery that feel inseparable from Greece, my heritage, and from the Mediterranean: pomegranates, figs, grapes, lemons, olive branches; blue-and-white ceramics and vases; linens; lived-in walls; distant mountains; and of course, the heart of the land, the sea. I wanted the paintings to feel abundant and intimate, as though you’ve stepped into someone’s childhood home. The windows are open, the wind travels through the curtains bringing with it a floral fragrance from the gardens outside, and dappled light illuminates the fruit that someone has just lovingly set on the table waiting for you.
Many of these fruits are symbolic. They speak of abundance, fertility, and hospitality. I am equally interested in their smaller, quieter meaning: the way a bowl of fruit can remind us of a person, a place, or a table we once sat around.
Faith also enters this collection in a deeply personal way. Apples for Saint Irini was painted with particular reverence for Saint Irene Chrysovalantou and the tradition of her blessed apples. Her intercession has held a special place in my own experience of becoming a mother.
Painting the apples became an act of gratitude as much as an act of prayer.
The same landscape appears throughout the collection almost as if it were another guest at the table. The sea sits beyond windows and terraces. A village emerges from hillsides. Boats drift toward the shore. While the majority of the paintings focus on the table, Down to the Sea suggests that the landscape is never entirely separate from the meal or the home.
We are connected to our ancestral roots through the traditions and rituals we gather at the table. And in this way, we are connected to each other.
I have painted these works loosely and intentionally, allowing brushstrokes and traces of the burnt sienna underpainting to remain visible. I wanted the paintings to feel lived in, remembered, and gestural rather than meticulously recorded in order to preserve the atmosphere of a memory.
Trapezi simply means “table.”
But a table can hold an entire life.
