Meet the Artist
Early in my career I asked myself, “why do I want to make art? What drives me to create these visual stories?” That answer came slowly through a lot of deep reflection and journeying in my art career. However, I did eventually find that answer! I want to be a person that brings more beauty into the world, not less. I desire to celebrate women and their unique connection to God and faith. I aim to capture those quiet, between moments that don’t always seem beautiful on the surface, but when you look deeper, there it is. I hope to speak to emotions that can only be felt and not described. I intend to leave the world better then I left it, and I can do that through my art.
My Art Journey
I was always drawn to contrasts and small details, even as a child. I remember lying on the couch, mesmerized by light spilling from the kitchen, broken into sharp, contrasting lines by the wooden slat doors. I longed to capture that light, to somehow hold those contrasts in my hands. This moment planted the earliest seeds of my desire to be an artist. I continued noticing details and wanted to capture them, yet, I often felt unworthy of being called an artist.
In junior high, I took an art elective despite that unworthy feeling. When my teacher mentioned that art majors didn’t have to take a lot of math in college—a subject I hated with the strength of a thousand burning suns—an artist was born! From that moment on, I pursued every art elective available to me, embracing the path I’d previously doubted.
In high school, I became increasingly drawn to capturing deeper emotions—what my mom often called “moody art.” Those early efforts are where I began my first baby explorations into faith, strength, and vulnerability. I wanted to create art that told quiet stories. Even then, I was captivated by the contrasts of strength and vulnerability, joy and sorrow, faith and doubt—threads that would ultimately define my work.
Like most teenagers, I loved to doodle in the margins. It was never anything specific, just line building on line as I let my mind wander. These lines would become intricate patterns that would often overtake my entire page. Sometimes these doodles made it into my art, but mostly I explored a variety of styles as I learned, continuing to love contrasts. As my interest in art continued to grow, so did my skill, eventually leading me to win Best in State in Texas for my painting.
When I entered college, I envisioned a long career in fine art. Life, however, took an abrupt turn: I unexpectedly became pregnant, and ultimately, that baby was placed for adoption. Such a simple sentence to represent a moment of time that was filled with immense trauma, pain, and heartbreak. This experience shaped me profoundly, teaching me to lock away my emotions, my passions, and even my dreams. I learned to bury my deepest feelings, believing (wrongfully) that I wasn’t allowed to feel anything about that time but shame and sorrow.
As I eventually returned to school, I met and married my now-husband and chose a more practical path in graphic design. For ten years, I built and ran a successful design firm. I created countless logos and branding materials and had two wonderful boys. Yet, over time, I felt a growing emptiness. My work lacked the passion and depth I craved, each project feeling like just another job rather than an artistic expression. Burnout set in, and I eventually closed the business despite its success. Shifting my focus to my home and my young sons gave me a needed break, but that creative itch was always there. After some time, I began teaching private art lessons. This short time in my life was a reminder that I truly loved drawing and missed the excitement of storytelling through art. I was taken back to the joy I found in creating visual stories, which soon led me to illustration.
While illustration felt like a natural fit, over the years, the same emptiness I felt with design began to set in. During this time of frustration, I attended a gallery show of Minerva Teichert’s beautiful work. I was captivated by her ability to weave faith and purpose into each piece. I just sat there, overcome with tears in my eyes. Her art had the very meaning I’d been missing! I went home and looked at my work—all of it—from high school to college to design to illustration. I realized the pieces that resonated most with others were those that channeled my deeper self, the one I kept locked up. This experience with Minerva’s art was life-changing and finally gave me the courage to transition into fine art. I recognized it was time to let go of fear and bring my whole self to my art, embracing my faith and my love for quiet stories. I called back to earlier roots and rediscovered my high school interest in contrasts and building lines once more. But my art has since evolved past the margins, allowing me to capture in ink the memories, moments, and experiences that shape each of us.
I think it’s important to note that I was able to take this next big step because I had finally sought help through therapy to deal with the pain of my past. I came to recognize that there is beauty in pain and that amazing growth can happen even when all seems hopeless. By accepting all the parts of me, good and bad, I was able to reignite the original creative passions that I had suppressed for so long. If I had not done this work already, I don’t believe I would have been in a place to see the invitation for growth.
The first work I created with my new purpose in mind was the Fides Minis series. This collection was my declaration of self-trust, a way of letting my art express the quiet faith I hold dear. Named after the Latin word for “faith,” Fides became my commitment to honoring the spiritual strength and inner journey I see in myself and others, especially women. In creating this series, I was able to break free from the last limitations I’d placed on myself and give myself permission to create what I always wanted to create.
Looking back, I see that contrasts have always defined my journey—black and white, chaos and peace, pain and healing. My art gives form to these juxtapositions, with patterns that flow like thoughts, capturing life’s intricate moments as I experience them. My art is a quiet reflection on faith, resilience, and the beauty of contrasts. It’s a journey of letting go of safety, trusting my voice, and finding a passion that was there all along.