I’ve always been drawn to nature, especially the soft greens, deep blues, sandy golds, and the gentle blush of peaches and pinks. These colors feel like home to me—calming, grounding, and filled with a quiet kind of beauty. My garden, with its sunlit roses, is a constant source of inspiration, reminding me of the strength found in growth and change.

Art has been my solace, especially in the past few years. I’ve found deep healing in the creative process, and my studio has been both a sanctuary and a place of transformation. Through it all, my sweet pups, Anya and Frankie, were by my side. They weren’t just pets; they were family, my constant companions, curled up near me as I painted through the early days of my art journey. Losing them left a profound emptiness, but their spirit still lingers in every brushstroke, in the peaceful space I create around me, and in the quiet moments of reflection.

At my core, I’m deeply empathetic, which often makes me an introvert at heart. Yet, I love the warmth of close connections—family, friends, and, of course, my pups. I create art in the same way I create a home: with an intention to bring peace, tranquility, and beauty into the world.

At the end of the day, my art is simply an extension of me—my thoughts, my heart, and my way of making sense of this world. And if it brings a moment of comfort or connection to someone else, then that makes it all the more meaningful.