I am a naïve, empathetic abstract artist.
My work is a celebration of life and nature—their beauty, their power, and their unpredictability. Through each piece, I express emotion in its purest form, often revealing my most vulnerable experiences: anxiety and depression, grief and loss, and my mother’s journey with Alzheimer’s. Painting allows me to translate what cannot always be spoken.
My journey as an artist began shortly after I turned 50, when I started painting the walls of my shed. What began as a simple, personal outlet quickly became something more—a space without rules. I could drip, fling, brush, blend, and play freely. That freedom became my foundation.
Over the past decade, I’ve continued to create in this way—guided not by structure, but by instinct. I follow my gut, my inner voice, and my physical responses to color, texture, and movement. Each piece unfolds as a conversation between emotion and material.
Shortly before turning 60, I discovered I have multi-sensory aphantasia—the inability to form mental images across all senses. I cannot visualize, hear, or internally sense in the way many others do. Perhaps this is why my work is so deeply rooted in feeling. My art does not come from imagined images—it comes from lived experience, from sensation, from emotion moving through me.
Abstract art invites interpretation. The energy within each canvas is meant to engage your senses, expand your perspective, and offer a moment of pause. There is no right or wrong way to experience a piece. My work is visceral—often textured and dimensional—and, unless noted, meant to be touched as well as seen.
I am deeply grateful for the ability to create, and continually humbled when a piece resonates with someone else. My hope is that you find a connection—something that evokes a feeling, a memory, or a quiet knowing… something that speaks to you.