My heart beats to the rhythm of the eclectic. Whether I’m in my lovingly restored 1936 Sears & Roebuck cottage, tending the wild gardens I’ve coaxed into bloom, or immersed in layers of texture and color in my studio, I am always creating. But “create” feels far too small a word. For me, art is a way of life—a reflection of curiosity, exploration, and reverence for the natural world.

Nature is my muse and my medicine. I gather feathers, stones, and fading leaves like love notes from the earth. A flicker of wings, the hush of a hidden stream, the surprise of a wildflower cracking through concrete—these are the moments that stop me in my tracks, camera in hand, heart wide open.

My art grows from these pauses—from listening. Botanical printing, hand-mixed pigments, birds delicately painted by hand... each piece is rooted in my connection to the land and its rhythms. My work isn’t about perfection or polish; it’s about presence, texture, and the stories that live in the soil.

I create to offer refuge. In a world that rushes, I hope my art slows you down. Invites you to breathe. To remember. To feel connected—both to the natural world and to your own spirit.

That purpose became even clearer when life handed me an unexpected turn: a diagnosis of leukemia and lymphoma. After 30 years as an art teacher, I chose to retire and pour my energy into what lights me up most—making art that heals, that speaks, that reminds us beauty is always waiting, even in the hardest seasons.