A painting becomes part of our everyday lives. It greets us in the morning, changes with the light, holds memories, and reminds us of what matters. It can help create the emotional atmosphere of a home while reflecting something meaningful about the people who live there. That is the experience I want my artwork to create for collectors. As I spend the next few weeks working quietly in the studio, I am not stepping backward or disappearing. I am building the next layer. I a

Dolly did not wait for permission to become Dolly. Her life reminds me that authenticity is not something we earn after becoming successful. Authenticity may be one of the very things that allows us to create a meaningful version of success in the first place.

I am writing this from a local winery with a glass of wine nearby, soulful music playing in the background, and absolutely nothing happening inside my brain. At least, that is how it feels. From the outside, my life is overflowing with possibility. I have proposals awaiting decisions, gallery walls waiting to be filled, creative opportunities taking shape, and some very big personal dreams hovering just beyond my reach. I have done the work. I have taken the risks. I have lai

Creative work is often romanticized as inspiration, color, freedom, and beautiful finished paintings hanging beneath gallery lights. The reality is usually much messier. There are deadlines, logistics, wrapping artwork, carrying canvases, editing presentations, answering emails, promoting events, making decisions, second-guessing those decisions, and trying to remember whether you actually ate lunch somewhere in the middle of it all.

Have you ever caught your mind spinning a frightening story about the future—only to discover that the story wasn’t true? Our minds are astonishingly creative. Unfortunately, they don’t always use that creativity in our favor. Given an unanswered question or an uncertain future, the mind can quickly fill the empty space with everything that might go wrong.

While daily creation is already part of my life, this challenge gently nudged me back into something I hadn’t been prioritizing lately — my sketchbook practice.

Making art will ask you to tell the truth. It will push you past what feels comfortable. It will ask you to show up, even when you’re not ready. And if you’re willing to stay in the discomfort, it will reflect you back to yourself.

I didn't vanish... just taking a breath to reflect, relax, and re-emerge to my next best self.