Wander & Wonder

I like to say that I’m inspired by wander and wonder—by following curiosity wherever it leads and staying open to what unfolds along the way. I’ve never been someone who can narrow life down to a single lane, and my art reflects that. It’s an exploration of what brings me joy in the moment, a practice of discovery rather than definition.

What I love most is experiencing new places, people, and cultures. I’ve been called an explorer, and that feels right. Recently, that’s taken the form of solo travel—moving through the world on my own terms, without needing permission or compromise. What started as an unexpected chapter in my life became something beautiful: space, freedom, and a deeper connection to myself and my creativity.

My paintings are instinctive. I choose subjects based on curiosity, not rules. Sometimes I paint what’s in front of me, but more often the imagery comes from somewhere less tangible—music, movement, or the uninhibited lines of a doodle. I’m less interested in control and more interested in what happens when I let go.

I’m currently exploring how to bring the energy of my watercolor travel journals into my acrylic work—capturing not just what I see, but how a place feels. I’m drawn to experimentation: different tools, surfaces, and techniques. I’m always asking, what happens if I try this?—and letting the paint answer.

For me, creating is both a release and a surprise. Some of my favorite moments are when something unexpected emerges on the canvas and I catch myself thinking, Did I just do that?

And while I love the act of making, what I love even more is sharing it. There’s something powerful about watching someone else find meaning, emotion, or joy in a piece—especially when they see something I didn’t even know was there.

At its core, my work is about permission: giving myself the freedom to create, to explore, and to follow what feels alive—and hopefully inspiring others to do the same.

My Story

I grew up in Olympia, Washington, with a strong sense of independence and a drive to carve my own path. Art was always there. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t want to create.

One of my earliest memories is discovering art class in third grade—it quickly became my favorite part of the day. When school funding cuts eliminated the program, I was devastated. I remember being told that art wasn’t considered essential in the same way as reading or math—that it was something you earned time for, after everything else was done.

That idea stayed with me for a long time.

In middle and high school, I found my way back to art, gaining recognition and encouragement that hinted at what might be possible. But when it came time to choose a path, I took the “practical” route—earning a degree in Interdisciplinary Arts & Sciences (Political Economy) and building a career in marketing. It gave me creativity, stability, and growth—but over time, my own art quietly slipped into the margins. Literally.

For years, most of my creative expression lived in notebook doodles during meetings, waiting for a “someday” when I’d have the time, space, and security to fully return to it.

That someday came sooner than expected.

After navigating layoffs and a divorce, I realized that if I didn’t give myself permission to create now, no one else ever would. So I stopped waiting.

Today, I’m rebuilding my life and career around art—not just as a practice, but as a way of living. I paint because of how it feels: the movement of the brush, the physicality of the paint, the moment when something unexpected comes to life.

Art is no longer something I do after everything else.

It’s the first thing I do.