All My Blog Posts

In 2024-25 I participated in a journey to use art to uncover, dislodge and toss away for good the hinderances that had prevented me from living as the woman and artist I knew I was meant to be. It was my own sense of inferiority against the artist paragon that was Mom that were my demons. It is not uncommon, this precarious dynamic between mothers and daughters, after all. Mom has always loved me, but as humans we all come with baggage passed down through many generations, p

I'm abysmal at perspective.... have studied, practiced it, even taught it, and I can spot it immediately in my students' paintings, but never my own until later. I am and will always be about feelings, color, light, and mood, so much so, that I'll rush to express those while overlooking the most basic of technical elements. Alas! Remember that Cezanne and VanGogh had TERRIBLE perspective in their works too. I'm calling my style fauvism masquerading as realistic impressionism.

It has taken what seems like a lifetime to find my voice as an artist. Does that mean I can finally call myself an artist without feeling like an absolute fraud? I don't know. Maybe, maybe not, but it actually doesn't matter to me any more either. I just AM. Call me what you want, or at worst, say that I have the true heart of an artist if nothing else!