My work at its deepest reflects my perpetual yearning to be with nature. I love animals and the natural world more than anything. All of my happiest moments have happened outside. It’s this feeling of coming home to nature that I wish to accomplish in every piece of artwork or poem or book that I write.
I want to remind every human that spies something I’ve painted to take a step off the hard pavement of the sidewalk and find a meadow, lie down, and stare at the clouds; to walk on the beach and allow the waves to soak your feet; to take a long walk in the woods, maybe even up the side of a mountain until you reach the place where the wind steals your soul.
I’ve recently fallen in love with William Morris designs and floral scroll work. I’ve also fallen for acanthus leaves, which have been found in architecture and artworks since Ancient Greece. One you start noticing acanthus leaves, you will see them everywhere.
These designs are simple at heart, but you can let them transform into complex curling edges. As seen in my paintings like Acanthus with Fox and Sunflower and Acanthus with Two Morels and Tulip, I’ve been practicing two-toned leaf patterns as backgrounds and unifying reflections of depth in my botanical portraits of flora and fauna. I want to find ways of blending botanical illustration with acanthus leaves and floral scrolling. In my Acanthus with Monarch Metamorphosis triptych, I used acanthus leaves to frame and give motion to the transformational journey of a monarch butterfly in three stages: caterpillar, chrysalis, and adult butterfly.
I’ve also been learning to mix my own paint colors by combining powdered pigments with acrylic binders, as seen on the Acanthus Chest, which was painted initially with General Finishes milk paint, and then all of the detail work of the acanthus leaves and flowers were painted with my hand-mixed paints.
I love to explore queer ecology and diversity in nature and animals to illustrate and advocate for diversity amongst humans. I hope to continue to evolve my artistic practice towards affirmations that encourage us to view ourselves and other humans as vital components of a cohesive and interconnected ecosystem.
Through each stroke of my paint brushes, I’d like to imagine nature spilling into people’s homes and personal spaces through curling leaves and bursts of floral colors, on the wings of a monarch butterfly or a white mountain fritillary. The natural world—the wild places—are connected to all of us. I’d like each piece of artwork that I make act as a prayer to repair our relationship with nature, a siren song to the wilderness, to hang on while we learn, heal, and dream ourselves closer.

