When I was eleven, my parents gave me an acrylic painting kit and two Bob Ross books for Christmas. I began painting that day and have yet to stop. I am no longer painting at the kitchen table and splashing cobalt blue over the surface of my mother's clean walls; today I am working in my studio and trying to avoid splattering paint onto my feline companions nearby. Although my work bears no resemblance to Bob Ross's paintings, I keep his two books on a shelf in my art studio next to books about abstract expressionism, weaving, and contemporary art. Over the years, I have come to realize that the act of creating art is not only a safe and positive outlet for expression, but is a poignant nonverbal language I use to speak when words are inadequate. Painting allows me to transform the elusive, intangible, and formless thoughts in my mind into concrete, physical objects in the visual world. My work addresses memories, dreams, nightmares, mysteries, peace, and prayers. I find it is in the process of painting, sculpting, and photographing that I find my voice, step forward, and speak. My work is a journal of healing, self-forgiveness, empowerment, and ultimately freedom. Recently, I have come to realize my paintings are filled with gratitude toward an overwhelming outpouring of love and beauty that, for many years, I had been unable to see. The recognition, acceptance, and celebration of that love has become an essential theme of my work.
Art is the process of transforming our intangible thoughts, experiences, and feelings into concrete pieces of the physical world.
Creating art requires vulnerability and the creation of a safe, judgement-free environment.
Where words end, art begins. Each time we make a painting, we open a locked door in our hearts.
"Every time we choose to forgive, the world changes" - W. P. Young