About
When I picture Abraham following God into an unknown land, I see it in abstract shapes and colors —
so I follow God there, too.
But painting and I have a love-hate relationship. Looking at a blank canvas makes me feel the same vulnerability as beginning a prayer--neither is optional, and if it’s been a while, I feel it. Even when I meet the canvas every day, I can’t predict where it’s going to take me. Every stroke is a leap of faith.
I’ve always been “creative,” but for a long time was afraid to explore what that meant. My first real leap of faith came in the form of four massive canvases I naively volunteered to paint as decor for my own wedding. When the pandemic hit almost immediately afterward, I had for the first time not only the time and space, but also the courage to paint.
I’m a designer by day and an artist by calling, trained in intention but a lover of happy accidents. I studied design but am a mostly self-taught painter, so my practice is built around intuition, journaling, experiments, closed eyes, and bated breath. It is inspired by the stories, scriptures, people, colors, memories, and tiny bursts of joy that make up my days.
I believe God created this world beautifully, and He didn’t have to. He gave us so much beauty, yet left Himself unseen. But it’s the unseen that makes things interesting -- things still to be discovered and impossible to pin down. So I come to the canvas to meet God in that thin place. Where design is about getting out of the way, painting is my way of exploring the beauty within and around me. It is an outward sign of a very inward, unseen journey. In both art and design, my goal remains the same: I want to make it easier for people to see and experience God.
With love,