Nice to meet you!
Art has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. My dad, an art major in college, would often sit down with my sister and me to draw whenever we asked. For years, I entered the youth category for art at our county fair in Montana without much success.
Being homeschooled meant limited exposure to formal art classes until I was fourteen, when a rare opportunity arose for homeschool kids to work with three art teachers for six weeks. During these lessons, I experimented with acrylic paint and charcoal for the first time, while one of the teachers focused on observational skills. Thanks to my parents' support, I attended these classes and began to expand my understanding of what it means to really connect with the creative experience. That summer earned first and second place ribbons as well as a President's Choice Award at our county fair.
In 2010, I moved to Northern California and spent several years immersed in the local filmmaking community. My creativity was stretched to the limit, but I would not explore drawing or painting for nearly a decade. During this period my appreciation for narrative and emotional connection was established. This decade would introduce me to marriage, motherhood, Washington State and starting my own business.
In 2020, my life began to go through even more rapid changes. Ignoring the warning signs, I pushed myself harder to meet the demands of motherhood and running my own business. In 2022 this all culminated in a move to Southwestern Idaho and unexpected health challenges. As the stress mounted, I started experiencing acute memory issues that affected my ability to meet deadlines. Eventually, I shut down my business to focus on my children. Taking a job as a teacher's aide at my children's elementary school seemed like a good way to align my schedule with theirs.
However, the sensory overload from the gym's noise, the cafeteria's smells, and the fluorescent lights quickly became overwhelming. Despite several tactics to help cope, I struggled with increasing exhaustion, meltdowns, depression, memory lapses, and physical symptoms. My husband reassured me that it was okay to quit and focus on my health. Initially, I took a leave of absence, hoping for a quick fix, but the burnout was severe, and I had to quit entirely.
This forced slowdown allowed me to rediscover my relationship with art as a way to gently encourage healing. Embracing my newly discovered neurodiversity, I began to explore what it means to work with my strengths rather than against them. My entire life had been spent assuming that any area I struggled was some character flaw I needed to fix, rather than clues into how my brain functions.
Relearning how to go about life in a way that is kinder and more sustainable continues to be an uphill battle. The intense emotions, sensory sensitivity and heightened observation all finds an outlet through art and I’m excited to allow myself to express it all.
