My Story

I have been painting since I was a teenager. Art always felt natural to me, but when it came time to choose a career, I followed a more practical path and went to school for graphic design. It felt like the responsible choice: something stable, something secure.

And for a while, it was a good fit. I built a career designing journal covers and gift cards, and I truly loved that work. When my daughter arrived in 2009, I kept designing as a freelancer, fitting projects around naps and feedings. But after my son was born, life shifted. I stepped away from work to be home with my children, and in that pause, I began to notice how deeply burned out I had been.

Somewhere in those beautiful, busy years, I lost the woman I used to be. I was pouring everything into everyone else, and quietly, I was carrying depression and anxiety. There was a time when everything felt heavy, and I didn't know how to find my way back.

The turning point was surprisingly small. I began buying flowers just for myself, bold yellow blooms that I set on my kitchen table. Every time I walked past them, something in me softened. They didn't fix my life, but they reminded me that beauty was still here, and that I was still allowed to enjoy it.

That's what flowers do. On a low day, a single bloom can be a quiet promise that brighter days are coming.

Those tiny moments of beauty led me back to art, and art became my therapy. It gave me a place to breathe, to feel, and to heal. I truly believe art has the power to lift our spirits, spark our imagination, and carry us through seasons we didn't think we could get through. In many ways, it saved me.

In 2019, I visited Portland and walked through a garden filled with thousands of roses, varieties I had never seen before. I stood there in awe, and I knew I had to paint them. So I began drawing again, just a little each day. Those small, consistent moments slowly turned into years of practice, and without realizing it, I was growing more deeply as an artist than ever before.

Then I found watercolor. It didn't come easily. It challenged me in ways I never expected, and some days it felt like the paint had a mind of its own. But I stayed with it. As a self-taught artist, I learned through patience, repetition, and a willingness to fail and try again. Watercolor taught me that beauty can't be rushed, and neither can healing.

Along the way, I discovered something about myself, too. I love connecting with people. I started a henna business on the side, and what I treasured most was the joy it brought and the one-on-one moments I shared with each person. That same longing for connection now lives in every painting I create.

My hope is that when you bring one of my pieces into your home, the room feels a little lighter. I hope it reminds you that even in the darkest times, there is still light and color to be found, and that you, too, are allowed to bloom again.