Adam J. O’Day, is Boston’s own, modern Monet—he’s a landscape painter, he’s a rule breaker, and he’s got a beard that the 19th century, French Impressionist himself would undoubtedly envy.

Often depicting local scenes with a gritty flair, O’Day’s work drips with color. In his pieces, red and blue clouds hang behind Kenmore’s Citgo sign, pastels reflect the city’s skyline in the Charles River, and the brownstones of Newbury Street dress themselves in tie-dye. O’Day’s depictions of Boston go beyond what is there, beyond what he actually sees. They place emotion above reality. They represent what he feels. “I think it’s important to get down to the nitty gritty of a place and express that through color,” O’Day said. “It’s a more interesting vibe.”

O’Day’s impressionistic style was born, almost literally, when he painted a dream-like portrait of a baby for his introductory oil painting class in college. The picture, which he still has even a decade later, was drippy, wet, and messy. It didn’t adhere to the rules and methods that some of his professors said he had to follow, and he didn’t quite care. He just let it flow.