Forever an Oregonian (with a small season in a sweet little town in Utah), the Pacific Northwest has always been where I call home. I grew up with an artistic bent that had my parents stumped, as it was a trait completely foreign to the both of them. I loved any side art class I took throughout my early years, though I often found myself gravitating back to capturing the details and recreating exactly what I was looking at, because that was just what made sense to me. (Ask me about the time I was told to draw a crumpled brown paper bag using the contrasting colors of blue & orange — I was not happy.)

Though always holding onto the love of art, I never truly thought I would hold the title of “artist.” It was just something I dabbled in whenever creativity struck and free time permitted it. Upon graduating college I began my career as a Kindergarten teacher, and I occasionally played around with paints on the side. It wasn’t until a hiking injury in 2018 left me with a broken ankle, and the boredom during the long days from sitting on the couch had me reaching again for my paints, but this time something finally unlocked.

Slowly, yet surely, I started to find my rhythm. I had moved from loose florals that I had been longing to recreate but just couldn’t grasp, to the detailed recreations that my brain was just naturally bent towards. I was still learning what I wanted to create and how to do it, but amid much frustration and uncertainty, my craft was forming. Even as I started to fully delve into the gift I had always had, I just didn’t know what to do with it. But years later, here we are.

I attribute all this — this passion, this love, this gift — to the Giver of all good things, to the One I owe every breath. The Westminister Catechism states: “The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.” That’s what I aim to do here. I want to use this gift that He has so graciously given me to point back to His goodness, and enjoy the beauty that He has so generously bestowed as I enjoy Him.