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About the Artist

Artist Statement

I create art because I must—it’s how I process life. My sculptures and wall pieces are built from scraps, found objects, and emotion.

I rarely begin with a plan. Instead, I follow instinct, letting my grief, joy, and memories guide the form. Each piece tells a story—often my own—but I hope viewers see themselves in the layers, the cracks, the color, and the silence.

 

I’m especially drawn to identity, caregiving, survival, and spiritual resilience themes. My years as a caregiver—walking alongside my mother through dementia—gave me a raw and complex understanding of what it means to hold on, let go, and keep going. That emotional terrain lives in my work.

Whether it’s a fragmented face, a heavily adorned figure, or a surreal wall sculpture, my work isn’t about giving answers. It’s about starting a conversation—raising questions, inviting reflection, and creating space for honesty. I want people to connect with their emotions, uncertainties, and fears. I hope every piece opens a door for viewers to see themselves more clearly and feel less alone in what they carry.

Artist Statement

I create art because I must—it’s how I process life. My sculptures and wall pieces are built from scraps, found objects, and emotion. I rarely begin with a plan. Instead, I follow instinct, letting my grief, joy, and memories guide the form. Each piece tells a story—often my own—but I hope viewers see themselves in the layers, the cracks, the color, and the silence.

I’m especially drawn to themes of identity, caregiving, survival, and spiritual resilience. My years as a caregiver—walking alongside my mother through dementia—gave me a raw and complex understanding of what it means to hold on, let go, and keep going. That emotional terrain lives in my work.

Whether it’s a fragmented face, a heavily adorned figure, or a surreal wall sculpture, my work isn’t about giving answers. It’s about starting a conversation—raising questions, inviting reflection, and creating space for honesty. I want people to connect with their emotions, uncertainties, and even fears. I hope every piece opens a door for viewers to see themselves more clearly and feel less alone in what they carry.

Update: June 2025

When my mom passed on November 5, 2022, I was overwhelmed by grief. The last thing I expected was that I’d find a way through it by drawing, painting, and creating with found objects—things I never imagined would become art.

What began in pain has unfolded into a chapter filled with joy, growth, and unexpected connection:

🖼️ I’ve sold 48 pieces
🌟 I have 81 works available on my website

This month has been especially encouraging:

🦉 The Owl and the Frog was juried into the Season Festival – Summer 2025 Exhibition through Exhibizone and Biafarin
🪽 Even Angels Cry was accepted into the Believe 2025 online exhibition hosted by Gallerium Art
📰 A two-page feature in Novum Artis, Issue 008, will include Even Angels Cry and Puzzling Dementia
🎨 And two of my abstract pieces have recently sold

                 

I’m sharing this not just as an update, but as encouragement. If you’re navigating loss, know this: there is life after grief. It may look different, but it can still be beautiful, unexpected, and purposeful.