emerging data-driven abstract artist
6” x 12” x 1.5”
acrylic and ink on wood panel
2022
Sometimes the most vibrant, fulfilling conversations are said without words, without sound. Conversations that are a back and forth, a give and take, a heart-to-heart of knowing glances. Unspoken communication said with a touch or just because they’re there. We should all be so lucky to find this one-to-one.
Original exhibited in the Small Works juried exhibition at Northville Art House November 12 – December 17, 2022
6” x 12” x 1.5”
acrylic and ink on wood panel
2022
Sometimes the most vibrant, fulfilling conversations are said without words, without sound. Conversations that are a back and forth, a give and take, a heart-to-heart of knowing glances. Unspoken communication said with a touch or just because they’re there. We should all be so lucky to find this one-to-one.
Original exhibited in the Small Works juried exhibition at Northville Art House November 12 – December 17, 2022
20” x 20” x 1.5”
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and pencil on canvas
2022
A rising tide creeps ever closer, threatening to reclaim what once belonged to it. Fueled by a fire of massive change that may be too late to stop. Don’t turn your back on the sea (change), it may engulf you and pull you under and you’ll never be the same.
Original exhibited in the Here Comes the Weather Report juried exhibition at Lawrence Street Gallery October 6 – October 29, 2022
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic, paper, and ink on canvas
2022
When you’re stuck, stagnate, unable to move forward, sometimes you have to force change. You have to will yourself forward. You have to force yourself to move to find the inertia you need. You step in front of the other. Maybe this will do it? Maybe you need to keep pushing.
Original exhibited in the Opening Up juried Detroit Society of Women Painters & Sculptors member exhibition at Northville Art House October 1 – October 29, 2022
Sold
24” x 24” x 1.5″
acrylic, paper, and ink on canvas
2022
Emerging from an unplanned pause full of frustration and dread. Emerging a little changed because you had to do *something* and make a new mark, a different mark than you had before – or maybe one you’d made but covered up, just to end the full stop you found yourself in.
Original exhibited in the Opening Up juried Detroit Society of Women Painters & Sculptors member exhibition at Northville Art House October 1 – October 29, 2022
Sold
commission
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic, paper, pencil, and ink on canvas
2022
People come into our lives
for a reason,
for a season,
or for a lifetime.
When we’re lucky, it’s for all three.
I take commissions, like this one. Give me a feeling, words, names, dates, and/or numbers and I will create a piece that is just for you.
24” x 24” x 1.5”
acrylic, paper, and pencil on canvas
2022
Imagining the time when the waiting is over. When the good of the moment comes flooding in. You were hoping for what could be, what will be, and can now focus on what is. What became. What manifested. What arrived. You can now focus on the new changes to come.
Original available in my shop
24” x 24” x 1.5”
acrylic, paper, and ink on canvas
2022
Seeing little hints of what could be – what will be? – off in the distance. Hoping but not wanting to get hopes up to high. Just in case. Just in case the little hints are for something else. But now wanting something you didn’t know you wanted. The waiting is so hard.
Original available in my shop
12” x 12” x 1.5”
acrylic and ink on wood panel
2022
What a difference a year makes. Or doesn’t make. We start with such good intentions and resolve. We have determination and purpose. And before too long we realize maybe we don’t want those things to change at all, really. And in the end we’ll look back and start it all over again.
Original available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on canvas
2022
The separation was not final immediately. It took time to dissolve into. Time to disconnect from a reaching, a grasping for something that could no longer be had, for something that was no longer meant to be, for something that shouldn’t be. When separation finally came the calm made clear this was right.
Original available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2022
A whisper of a former self, once desperate for change, desperate to leave a comfort zone. A whisper of a former self that’s now wide awake and hopeful and looking forward. A whisper of a former self, the best parts remain, the hardened parts now gone. A whisper of a former self now free.
Original available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2022
The need for an annual – or more often – pilgrimage to the place that speaks like no other. Big water resets the psychic metronome, resets the rhythm of souls, and resets the energy of a dormant spirit. The power of the great endless expanse to make one feel insignificant and significant at the same time.
Original currently available at Gutman Gallery
Also in the vague landscape series
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on canvas
2022
It didn’t kill us… but are we stronger? Possibly? We made it through another one, pretty much, mostly, but not entirely unscathed. Are we different somehow? Maybe? We may not have the scars to prove it – at least not visible ones. Did it change us? Probably. Did it leave a mark? Yes.
Original available at detroit contemporary in a group exhibition April 4 – April 26, 2022
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, ink, and pencil on canvas
2022
Waiting for an answer that never comes. An ellipses followed by silence. A message with no response. A connection broken. A cut-off. A relationship gone. A deafening silence. An ending with no resolution. No response. No reaction. No acknowledgement. No reason given. A disappearance. A loss. A grief. A letting go.
Original available at detroit contemporary in a group exhibition April 4 – April 26, 2022
4″ x 4″ x 1.5″
acrylic and paper on canvas
They don’t have to be gold to be precious. They don’t have to be the prop to be valued. Their shine is not there for you to show others, to make you look good. The pressure to perform for your benefit is wrong. This is not love. This is not caring. This is not what they deserve.
Original NFS
9.5” x 9.5” x 0.5”
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas board, framed
2021
It’s the little things that feel like big things that mean the most. Four words said when a thought crosses their mind, four words said when they come home, when they leave, when they go to bed. Four words said, give you a raison d’etre – “I love you, mom.”
Original NFS
9.5” x 9.5” x 0.5”
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas board, framed
2022
Making a flourish to flourish. Making a bold, extravagant gesture to say I’m here, I matter, I have a voice in order to allow yourself to grow and develop and thrive in a healthy way. It’s time to let yourself be heard, to let yourself be seen, to realize your own worth.
Original sold
8” x 8”
acrylic, paper, and ink on watercolor paper, matted
2022
Living life in the gray area, not readily conforming to a category or any existing rules, but always with throughlines of conviction. Black and white, so rigid, so limiting, but in the grays there’s freedom, there’s plenty of room to wiggle. In the grays is where all the colors are.
Original available in my shop
Also in the series…
8” x 8”
acrylic, paper, and ink on watercolor paper, matted
2022
Living life in the gray area, not readily conforming to a category or any existing rules, but always with throughlines of conviction. Black and white, so rigid, so limiting, but in the grays there’s freedom, there’s plenty of room to wiggle. In the grays is where all the colors are.
Original available in my shop
Also in the series…
8” x 8”
acrylic, paper, and ink on watercolor paper, matted
2022
Living life in the gray area, not readily conforming to a category or any existing rules, but always with throughlines of conviction. Black and white, so rigid, so limiting, but in the grays there’s freedom, there’s plenty of room to wiggle. In the grays is where all the colors are.
Original available in my shop
Also in the series…
20” x 20” x 1.5”
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
In their relationship, they remained individuals with their own paths and trajectories, but they were together where it mattered when the strength was needed. A symbiotic support system. A push and pull, a lift, a hold but always give and give, not give and take. Together they stay afloat. Together they rise.
Original available at The Riverside Detroit in the juried fundraising exhibition Out of the Darkness April 2, 2022
9.5” x 9.5” x 0.5”
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and pencil on canvas board, framed
A beginning, an inception, an initial occurrence. Like the first word on the first page of a new chapter. A square one. Marked because you know it is a point in time worth noting, marked because you know it’s an inaugural. A precursor to recurring celebration. This wasn’t like just any other day.
Original available in my shop
9.5” x 9.5” x 0.5”
acrylic, paper, and ink on canvas board, framed
The longest night was not the darkest night, the moon was nearly full, the sky was clearing. The longest night was not the coldest night – those nights were yet to come. The longest night was such a welcome night, the most hopeful night – it marked the end of lightless times.
Original available in my shop
9.5” x 9.5” x 0.5”
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and pencil on canvas board, framed
Living through a continuous sequence of unpredictable events with a thankfully ever-present support. With a grounded respite who provides stability and structure when everything waivers, when things are uncertain. With a connected partner in the journey who shares the grip on the safety line, especially when your grip falters.
Original available in my shop
9″ x 12″ x 1″
acrylic and ink on canvas paper, framed
Finding comfort in routine. In system. In order. A structure to live by. To thrive in. But also a need for a gentle chaos. Something to interrupt the monotony. Something out of the ordinary. Something breaking up the day by day by day by day.
Original available in my shop
Also in the series
9″ x 12″ x 1″
acrylic and ink on canvas paper, framed
Finding comfort in routine. In system. In order. A structure to live by. To thrive in. But also a need for a gentle chaos. Something to interrupt the monotony. Something out of the ordinary. Something breaking up the day by day by day by day.
Original available in my shop
Also in the series
9″ x 12″ x 1″
acrylic and ink on canvas paper, framed
Finding comfort in routine. In system. In order. A structure to live by. To thrive in. But also a need for a gentle chaos. Something to interrupt the monotony. Something out of the ordinary. Something breaking up the day by day by day by day.
Original available in my shop
Also in the series
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic, ink, and pencil on canvas
Snows fall and build then melt and recede like foamy waves on the beach. Signs here and there tease through the darkness that’s gone on too long – a warm day, small bits of green, a familiar song you hadn’t heard in months. The waiting for winter’s high tide to end is almost over.
Original available at The Gallery at Brewery Park in the juried Detroit Society of Women Painters and Sculptors member’ exhibition Here’s to you, Detroit! April 4 – June 1, 2022
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
Expectation. Waiting. Anticipating. Envisioning. An unclear future. Things not yet in focus. A dream not yet in color. A path still untraveled and new. Where things are possible, attainable, achievable. But only when the expectations aren’t for the worst while hoping for the best. When the mind is present and expectant, not expecting.
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on canvas
In the midst of the constant digital bombardment of noise, of bits and bytes, and disparate disruptive data, a single piece of information flaps its butterfly wings and causes a storm in someone’s mind. Sifting through all of the chaos, trying to make sense, trying to find patterns. All these answers are only new questions.
Original is available at Gutman Gallery in the juried Gadgets + Gizmos exhibition March 18 – April 30, 2022
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on canvas
To reflect. To look back. Reflections aren’t always mirror image. They may not be what we expected to see, what we wanted to see. To project. To imagine. Maybe looking forward is the image we want to see, want to be. And somewhere in the middle is being present with it all.
Honorable Mention Award winner in the juried 37th Our Town Art Show & Sale.
Original sold at The Community House in the juried 37th Our Town Art Show & Sale April 1 – April 15, 2022
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and pencil on canvas
When the tranquil whisper, the hushed tones, the nearly imperceptible buzz are the soundtrack of the world in the last light of day. When the beautiful shape-shifting visions, the ever-changing daydreams, the thoughts moving in unison are there for the closing of the day and the slowing down for the evening.
Original exhibited at The Gallery at Brewery Park in the juried Detroit Society of Women Painters and Sculptors members’ exhibition Here’s to you, Detroit! April 4 – June 1, 2022
Original exhibited in the juried Summer Invitational at Lawrence Street Gallery June 30 – July 29, 2022
Original exhibited in the juried 61st Annual Thumb Area Art Exhibition at Starkweather Arts Center September 1 – September 23, 2022
Honorable Mention Award winner in the juried 61st Annual Thumb Area Art Exhibition.
Also in the vague landscape series
9.5” x 9.5” x 0.5″ framed
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and pencil on canvas board and canvas mounted on mat board, framed
Sometimes the balance we’re looking for is more of a balancing act. Sometimes the balance we achieve, the balance we need, the balance we want, is an imbalance. We’re looking for an unequal equilibrium. More of this, less of that. That’s where we find the place to exhale, in the disproportion.
Original available in my shop.
4” x 4” in 9.5” x 9.5” frame
acrylic, ink, and pencil on canvas board, framed
2022
Life interrupted, temporarily slowed, put on pause. An induced hibernation. A domestic dormancy. A lengthy lethargy. An effort to preserve as much life as possible. And waiting, waiting, waiting for a resuscitation, a resurrection, a recovery, a reawakening. Tired of waiting. Ready to see again, to do again, to live again.
Original available in my shop.
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and pencil on canvas
2022
A breakthrough radiating from below the horizon or through small cracks in the obstructions. A radiance only seen when separated by shadowy volumes, only really noticeable when the contrast between light and dark is more distinct. A beauty missed in the comfort of sameness. A beauty illuminated in the contradiction.
Original exhibited at the Birmingham Bloomfield Art Center as a finalist in the juried 41st Annual Michigan Fine Arts Competition exhibition June 17 – August 18, 2022
Also in the vague landscape series
9.5” x 9.5” x 0.5”
acrylic, hand-cut paper, ink and pencil on canvas board and mat board, framed
Living through a continuous sequence of unpredictable events with a thankfully ever-present support. With a grounded respite who provides stability and structure when everything waivers, when things are uncertain. With a connected partner in the journey who shares the grip on the safety line, especially when your grip falters.
Original available in my shop.
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic and pencil on canvas
2022
When positive energy that was pent up, trapped, caged is finally released, it’s a tremendous sigh of relief, a weight lifted. When positive energy that was blocked gives way and is unblocked you feel like you can breathe again, be again. Everything comes rushing out like an unstoppable, beautiful wave.
Original exhibited at detroit contemporary in a the Spring Salon April 4 – April 26, 2022
Original exhibited in the juried 61st Annual Thumb Area Art Exhibition at Starkweather Arts Center September 1 – September 23, 2022
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on canvas
2022
Doing something different than you’ve always done for something different than you’ve ever had. A change in place, a change in space, a change in pace. It’s incredible how things seem so different up here, so new, so exciting, but the best parts of everything and of you remain the same.
Original available in my shop
10″ x 10″ x 1.5″
acrylic, paper, and ink on wood panel
2022
The pursuit of happiness felt like just that, an endless pursuit. It had seemed like something I could never really catch and hold onto because the obvious, excitement happiness is often brief. When I found another definition for happiness – a feeling of contentment, calm, and peace – my pursuit became much easier.
Original available at The Riverside Detroit in the juried fundraising exhibition Out of the Darkness April 2, 2022
4” x 4” in 9.5” x 9.5” frame
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas board, framed
2021
Allowing yourself to be in restful spaces in a world that doesn’t stop is an act of defiance, a quiet rebellion. Letting go of the fear of missing out, practicing true rest, taking a break from the constant pursuit of the next achievement is a peaceful revolution, a gentle resistance.
Original currently available at Gutman Gallery
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic, paper, ink, and pencil on canvas
2022
Sometimes there is a very clear point in time, an exact moment, when the path of your life changes. You know everything in your future will now be different from what you once imagined. There can be turning points like these where everything seems bleak and muddled. Then there are turning points where the good future now seems infinite.
Original sold at Northville Art House in the juried 16th Annual Member’s exhibition February 18 – March 19, 2022
from this day forward was recognized by Northville Art House members and visitors, both online and to the gallery, and won a Members’ Choice Award.
Also in the vague landscape series
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic, paper, and ink on canvas
2022
Living in a time when all life was disrupted, interrupted. Remembering and maybe longing for the before times while not knowing when we’ll be in the after times. Wanting to find a new sense of normalcy and settle in when we no longer know what “normal” is. Imagining what it could be, what it will be.
Original available in my shop
4” x 4” in 9.5” x 9.5” frame
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas board, matted and framed
2022
Below the veneer, a current swirls with its own passionate energy, often undetectable on the surface. There’s a seemingly quiet power here, one that’s mostly undetected. A power that can and will be called upon when it’s needed to support the important ones above, the ones who may be left vulnerable without it.
Original available in my shop
6″ x 6″ x 1.5″
acrylic and pencil on canvas
2022
Unfocused thoughts were swirling. Ideas were frustratingly fleeting. Attention was diffused. Soul was uncentered. Fear was setting in. Nothing was happening. “What if that’s all there was? What if there’s nothing more?” And then a thankful breakthrough. A new direction. A definite path. A moving forward. A calm. A relief. An exhale.
Original available in my shop
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on canvas
2022
The deepest depths offer the brightest luminescence. The blackest nights reveal the brightest stars. The light does not exist without the dark. A positive for a negative. Balanced contrast. Balanced duality. Complementary opposites. Necessary partners. In the bleakest of times, a million tiny points of hope will begin to shine.
Original available in my shop
20″ x 20″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on canvas
2022
Asking yourself questions for an answer. Is it the answer you wanted? The answer you expected? Did the answer not come? Or was your inquiry met with an echo? Looking inward. Looking deep. Introspection. Analysis. The questioning, the curiosity, the examination is always worthy. What do you do with the answers?
Original available in my shop
4” x 4” in 9.5” x 9.5” frame
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas board, framed
2021
Sometimes I can find this untroubled meditation-adjacent space where thoughts come in gently. I sit with them in solitude, alone but not lonely. They pass quietly like wispy clouds, slowly shifting shape. Nothing fights for my attention – I notice each one and can still observe the silent spaces in between.
Original available in my shop
4” x 4” in 9.5” x 9.5” frame
acrylic and ink on canvas board, framed
2021
We didn’t have true seasons where I had lived most of my life. As summer gives way to fall before it’s blanketed by winter… this is so different from the near-endless summer I knew. The days are much shorter here. There’s no payout from Daylight Savings. Sleep comes easy.
Original available in my shop
10″ x 10″ x 1.5″
acrylic and pencil on wood panel
2021
My mind is rarely truly quiet. I almost always have multiple independent thought streams of consciousness running like trains on multiple tracks. Sometimes I experience them simultaneously without any prioritized awareness, but most of the time I can bring one stream into focus while the others run in the background. This is where I find my calm.
Original available in my shop
4” x 4” in 9.5” x 9.5” frame
acrylic and hand-cut paper on canvas board, framed
2021
Grief runs on its own schedule. There isn’t a given time frame. It is what it is and takes as long as it takes. But when the harshest sting finally starts to wane, the more joyous memories have more space. Those memories come in unexpectedly like little hellos from the one missing from you.
Original available in my shop
10″ x 10″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on wood panel
2021
Long before you learned the truth, a part of you always knew that someone existed. There was a longing for someone you didn’t know but needed to know. You were searching before you knew you could search. 43 years, 5 months, and 22 days later they found you and a missing piece of you fell into place.
Original available in my shop
10″ x 10″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on wood panel
2021
One out of five. Connected and disconnected. A part of and apart. Estranged but not a stranger. Alone but not lonely. Only ever a half, bound by a broken thread. Now one within a new five. A chosen five. A healthy five. Such a different place to be the one.
Original available in my shop
4” x 4” in 9.5” x 9.5” frame
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas board, framed
2021
Ahhh, the moments when you feel this overwhelming joy in your chest, your stomach, your bones, your everything. So you dance, you sing, you smile, you cry. You want to dissolve in it. It’s a feeling so much bigger than all the words can explain or contain. Live for these moments.
Original sold at Gutman Gallery
9″ x 9″ x 1.5″
acrylic, paper, and ink on canvas, framed
2022
We kept sight of a glimmer – of good times remembered, good times experienced, good times imagined – to keep us going through the dark times. All it took was a tiny glimmer, faint at times and brighter at others, to give us hope, to push us forward, to keep us from sinking.
Original was available at Gutman Gallery in the juried Anything Goes exhibition January 28 – March 5, 2022
8″ x 8″ (framed)
machine-cut paper over photograph
2021
As a Texas ex-pat and data nerd, documenting my first winter in Michigan – my first true winter – seemed natural. This piece shows the temperature ranges for December 2020 – February 2021 in Detroit that I tracked and visualized, then machine cut out of Bristol board, and layered over a photograph I took of the snow.
Original available in my shop
12″ x 12″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and pencil on canvas
2021
On becoming who you truly are. Maybe a little rough around the edges. Always a work in progress. Nightmare on Wax’s lyrics sum it up well…
I do me
Be the most magnificent, just be
Living life that’s benevolent
The highest of the highest of
Anything equivalent
I do me
Original and prints available in my shop
12″ x 12″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on canvas
2021
What we were born with, what we were born into. What were constants, what were variables. What we think was pre-wired, and what wasn’t. What we thought we knew, what we learned we didn’t. What we can’t change, how much we can change. What we were challenged with, what we are overcoming.
Original shown in the Holiday Artist Market at Gutman Gallery
November 26 – December 23, 2021
Original and prints available in my shop
4” x 4” in 9.5” x 9.5” frame
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas board, framed
2021
I had only encountered winter in brief glimpses for most of my life. Even in those glimpses, before I experienced a true winter, I noticed the complete silence as heavy winter skies settled in over snow. But even more profound to me is noticing that my mind is quiet then too.
Original available in the juried Think Small exhibition at Lawrence Street Gallery December 1 – 23, 2021
Original available in my shop
4” x 4” in 9.5” x 9.5” frame
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas board, framed
2021
When a poem by Emily Brontë gives you the right words…
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.
Original shown and sold in the juried Think Small exhibition at Lawrence Street Gallery December 1 – 23, 2021
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2021
Sometimes there is a clear start for something. You can look back and see a definite trajectory towards a new evolution. From a start to a commitment. From “this could be something” to “this will always be something.” That path is worth celebrating too because the journey was its own beautiful something.
Original no longer available. Prints available in my shop
12″ x 12″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2021
In a nether world between awake and asleep, reality and dreaming mesh. People, things and places are clear and hazy, recognizable and unfamiliar. You have command and no control while you are neither fully here nor there. Time bends fast and slow in a hybrid state of consciousness, the most beautiful micro-awakening.
Original shown in the Holiday Artist Market at Gutman Gallery
November 26 – December 23, 2021
Original was shown in the 37th Annual Our Town Show & Sale at The Community House in Birmingham, MI April 1 – 15, 2022
Original and prints available in my shop
12″ x 12″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and pencil on canvas
2021
Thinking of the women I have known and loved and will know and love. All the women who left a mark on me, who influenced me, who loved me, who scarred me. Thinking of the strength and resilience and confidence and wisdom I now have because of, and sometimes in spite of, all of these women.
Original available at The Riverside Detroit in the juried fundraising exhibition Out of the Darkness April 2, 2022
10″ x 10″ x 1.5″
acrylic on wood panel
2021
A balancing act beneath the surface – don’t go too high, don’t fall too low. A medicated attempt to maintain the “normal” middle, quiet the many noisy trains of thought, and project a (mostly) calm surface. Most don’t know what runs beneath. Most don’t know the struggle. Until a crack appears. “You’re not alone. I feel that too.”
Original sold, prints available in my shop
16″ x 16″ x 0.75″
photography, digital collage printed on metal
2021
Separation because you’re pushed out or choose to leave – or both – may be the healthy thing or the painful thing – or both – but the disconnection is necessary. Some may try to define you by your estrangement, and that may be true to a degree because in your detachment you found yourself.
Original and prints available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic and pencil on canvas
2021
This work explores the mix of emotions that can happen when starting something new, especially something worthwhile. The exhilaration and joy of newness competes with crushing self-doubt and fear of the unknown. A first voice questions, “can I do this? Am I good enough?” A second, more quiet voice answers, “yes I can and yes I am.” To amplify that second voice is the practice.
Original is on display and available in the Crain Communications Detroit Office, March 1 – May 1, 2022
Prints available in my shop
16″ x 16″ x 0.75″
Manipulated photography & digital collage printed on metal
2021
The data elements in this piece represent two people and nearly half a lifetime of shared memories. I layered digitally hand-drawn elements over my photography – long exposures shot on expired film using a toy camera. The very unique quirks of this combination give me the light leaks, film damage, and blurred focus that echo the sometimes dreamlike state of our memories. Some sharp, some blurred, some merged, some faded. Part of a continuing series.
Original available at ART 634 in the juried Two’s Day exhibition February 22 – March 8, 2022 and the juried Women’s Work exhibition March 12 – April 3, 2022
Prints available in my shop
Also in the shared memory series
12″ x 12″ x 1.5″
acrylic and ink on canvas
2021
Change is a recurring theme in my work, it’s a meditation, a rumination, a fascination. This work, part of a series of 4, is the fourth. It’s an experiment in the fluidity of change. It marks a day in which an identity symbolically changed, when someone officially became more than they had been, and their soft merging into what comes next.
Original and prints available in my shop.
Also in the series
12″ x 12″ x 1.5″
Acrylic and pencil on canvas
2021
Change is a recurring theme in my work, it’s a meditation, a rumination, a fascination. This work, part of a series of 4, is the second. It’s an experiment in the fluidity of change. It marks a day in which an identity symbolically changed, when someone officially became more than they had been, and their soft merging into what comes next.
Original and prints available in my shop
Also in the series
16″ x 16″
Manipulated x-ray + digital collage
2020
While dealing with a very painful nerve injury that ultimately led to surgery, I used the x-rays taken of my foot as a base and structure for exploring the intense, electric pain I was feeling. These were all painted digitally in ProCreate on an iPad – a digital medium that allows me to use my own rough brushes and hand-drawn data elements that represent numbers, days, and letters. Part of a series of 3.
Prints available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
Marking twenty (plus?) years of knowing you, but nineteen years since that day you physically walked into my storyline – and nearly walked into a wall. All that time we missed, all that time not filled. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Maybe the time was there to make us who we are now.
Original and prints available in my shop
Also in the series…
16″ x 16″ x 0.75″
Manipulated photography & digital collage printed on metal
2021
The data elements in this piece represent two people and nearly half a lifetime of shared memories. I layered digitally hand-drawn elements over my photography – long exposures shot on expired film using a toy camera. The very unique quirks of this combination give me the light leaks, film damage, and blurred focus that echo the sometimes dreamlike state of our memories. Some sharp, some blurred, some merged, some faded. Part of a continuing series.
Original available at ART 634 in the juried Two’s Day exhibition February 22 – March 8, 2022 and the juried Women’s Work exhibition March 12 – April 3, 2022
Prints available in my shop
Also in the series
12″ x 12″ x 1.5″
Acrylic and pencil on canvas
2021
Change is a recurring theme in my work, it’s a meditation, a rumination, a fascination. This work, part of a series of 4, is the second. It’s an experiment in the fluidity of change. It marks a day in which an identity symbolically changed, when someone officially became more than they had been, and their soft merging into what comes next.
Original shown at Northville Art House in the juried Small Works exhibition November 12 – December 18, 2021
Original available at ART 634 in the juried Two’s Day exhibition February 22 – March 8, 2022 and the juried Women’s Work exhibition March 12 – April 3, 2022
Prints available in my shop
Also in the series
24” x 24” x 1.5”
Acrylic, ink, and hand-cut paper on canvas
2020
Sometimes there is a very clear point in time, an exact moment, when the path of your life changes. You know everything in your future will now be different from what you once imagined. There can be turning points like these where everything seems bleak and muddled. Then there are turning points like the one depicted in this painting, with shapes and lines marking dates and people, where the long view of this new future is much brighter.
Original no longer available. Prints available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
Time moved strangely during and since the Covid pandemic. It’s moved fast and slow, been short and long, all at the same time. Days were easy to lose track of. This work is about ticking off the time, marking dates to be remembered, later celebrated, later contemplated. Counting up, counting down. Hour by hour, day by day.
Original and prints available in my shop
also in the series…
12″ x 12″ x 1.5″
Acrylic, ink, and coffee on canvas
2021
Change is a recurring theme in my work, it’s a meditation, a rumination, a fascination. This work, part of a series of 4, is the first. It’s an experiment in the fluidity of change. It marks a day in which an identity symbolically changed, when someone officially became more than they had been, and their soft merging into what comes next.
Original shown at Northville Art House in the juried Small Works exhibition November 12 – December 18, 2021
Original sold at ART 634 in the juried Two’s Day exhibition February 22 – March 8, 2022
Prints available in my shop
12″ x 12″
Manipulated x-ray + digital overlays
2020
While dealing with a very painful nerve injury that ultimately led to surgery, I used the x-rays taken of my foot as a base and structure for exploring the intense, electric pain I was feeling. These were all painted digitally in ProCreate on an iPad – a digital medium that allows me to use my own rough brushes and hand-drawn data elements that represent numbers, days, and letters. Part of a series of 3.
Prints available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
When you learn, really learn, that home is not a place. It’s not a city or a house. It’s a person, or people – the people who have your heart. Home for me changed and expanded in the best possible way. Lines represent the years and home I had before. Hand-cut paper represents people. The black square represents the future – expansive, hopeful – my forever home.
Original and prints available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
Hand-cut paper represents the words, the words for loving someone – madly, deeply, fully, always. A joyous love. An intense love. A complete love. A love without end. There is a moment in time when you realize that’s what it is – there is a before and after when your world expands, when you become more whole than whole.
Original is on display and available in the Crain Communications Detroit Office, March 1 – May 1, 2022
Prints available in my shop
24″ x 6″ x 1.5″ (quadriptych)
Acrylic, ink, and embroidery on canvas
2021
This quadriptych focuses on motherhood and identity. Over the course of my adult life, my role as mother has changed and the part of my identity that is “Mom” has changed with it. From single-parenthood to a less-active role as my child aged to adulthood, to joining a new family and becoming a step-mother. This work illustrates motherhood as a constant but the relationship to it changing along the way using hand-inked lines and embroidered threads.
Original available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, ink, and pencil on canvas
2020
In only eight days (or nineteen years), it happened really fast (or not fast at all). The initial connection marked in hours made it clear to see this was the start of something new, something real, something lasting. It was a new future deeply rooted in the comfortable structure of a long past.
Also in the series…
16″ x 16″ x 0.75″
Photography and digital collage printed on metal
2021
The data elements in this piece represent two people and nearly half a lifetime of shared memories. I layered digitally hand-drawn elements over my photography – long exposures shot on expired film using a toy camera. The very unique quirks of this combination give me the light leaks, film damage, and blurred focus that echo the sometimes dreamlike state of our memories. Some sharp, some blurred, some merged, some faded.
Displayed in the Everything but the Kitchen Sink juried exhibition at the Lawrence Street Gallery September 30 – October 29, 2021
Original displayed in the Crain Communications Detroit Office, March 1 – May 1, 2022
Prints available in my shop, original sold
Also in the series
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic and ink on canvas
2020
When everything you’ve known changes. When one shared foundation comes apart because it needs to, because it’s ready to, but you still feel its pull. When you find and land on a new shared foundation that already has its own history and anchors. You can feel at home finally, again, while also struggling to learn your new place – and your place in it.
Original exhibited in the 37th Annual Our Town Show & Sale at The Community House in Birmingham, MI April 1 – 15, 2022
Original exhibited in the West of Center: Art That Pushes Boundaries juried exhibition at Northville Art House August 30 – September 24, 2022
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, ink, and pencil on canvas
2020
This piece is an intimate promise. A conversation between two people that may not be spoken. A quiet whisper to say “I would, I will.” Others may observe this conversation seeing the words, syllables, and dates depicted in the hand-cut paper and lines, but only the two know the true meaning of their commitment to one another.
Original no longer available. Prints available in my shop
48″ x 24″ x 1.5″ (diptych)
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
August 2020, in the midst of a global pandemic, I made a cross-country move. I moved from a place I had called home my whole life to a person I would call home for the rest of my life. This piece is a diptych – two 24” x 24” panels. The motion and continuation across the panels represent my journey. Data elements represent important numbers and people.
Original available in my shop
16″ x 16″
Photography and digital collage printed on metal
2021
This work explores the light, airy feeling of finding happiness as peace and contentment – when everything comes together to show you that you are exactly where you need to be, where you’re supposed to be. To capture that feeling, I layered photography of my hand-painted work over my film photography on expired film with digitally hand-drawn data elements marking a date.
Prints available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
In addition to brushes, I used my hands to manipulate the paint – a representation of the longing for physical touch while separated during the global coronavirus pandemic of 2020. Hand-drawn lines in ink and pencil marks days and dates. The use of black represents an infinite, hopeful depth. My signature is in the upper left corner – two squares of hand-cut paper.
Original available in my shop and prints are also available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic and ink on canvas
2020
Time seemed to bend in new ways during the global coronavirus pandemic of 2020. All at once, time felt fast, slow, long, short. Days marked in pencil lines all blurred together. Even the more defined days, in ink squares, lost some definition and clarity. Eventually, fleeting streaks of hope, in black, began to appear. And other signs of hope, like a few splashes of spaghetti sauce from a family dinner, are found in the textures of this piece.
Original and prints available in my shop
12″ x 12″
Manipulated x-ray + digital overlay
2020
While dealing with a very painful nerve injury that ultimately led to surgery, I used the x-rays taken of my foot as a base and structure for exploring the intense, electric pain I was feeling. These were all painted digitally in ProCreate on an iPad – a digital medium that allows me to use my own rough brushes and hand-drawn data elements that represent numbers, days, and letters. Part of a series of 3.
Prints available in my shop
24” x 24” x 1.5”
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
Distance during the global coronavirus pandemic lockdown felt immense. It helped to measure distance in days reaching towards a beckoning future. It helped to measure how we filled the time, how we kept the connection using text messages, phone calls, and love notes sent on post-its. It helped to look forward to the eventual day that would come when we could start a new future.
Displayed in the Emerge juried exhibition at the Gutman Gallery October 8 – November 6, 2021
Original available at ART 634 in the juried Two’s Day exhibition February 22 – March 8, 2022 and the juried Women’s Work exhibition March 12 – April 3, 2022
Prints available in my shop
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
The wheels were set in motion half a lifetime ago, but it took me forty-six years to find where I truly belonged. Within the swirling chaos of my brain, where moods fluctuate wildly, I created a place of stability and balance and order – a foundation I had to have before it would be a place that I could share. Hand cut and applied strips of paper represent age and place. Hand-drawn lines represent the years leading up to now.
Original is on display and available in the Crain Communications Detroit Office, March 1 – May 1, 2022
Prints available in my shop
24″ x 24 ” x 1.5″
Acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
In the past year, I have experienced a lot of change. In this piece, I explore the notion of a life before and a life after. Life before is not gone, it’s informing life after, it’s on balance with life after. I examine data points representing days and people on either side of the demarcation line – what led to the turning point and what came next. In the darkness of after, by comparison, I found more depth and vibrancy. I found something more infinite and hopeful. But in looking back, I can still appreciate the streaks of light that carried me through.
Original available at ART 634 in the juried Two’s Day exhibition February 22 – March 8, 2022 and the juried Women’s Work exhibition March 12 – April 3, 2022
Prints available in my shop
16″ x 16″ x 0.75″
Manipulated film photography + digital collage printed on metal
2021
The data elements in this piece represent two people and nearly half a lifetime of shared memories. I layered digitally hand-drawn elements over my photography – long exposures shot on expired film using a toy camera. The very unique quirks of this combination give me the light leaks, film damage, and blurred focus that echo the sometimes dreamlike state of our memories. Some sharp, some blurred, some merged, some faded. Initially part of a series of 2 that may eventually expand.
Displayed in the Emerge juried exhibition at the Gutman Gallery October 8 – November 6, 2021
Original displayed in the Crain Communications Detroit Office, March 1 – May 1, 2022
Prints available in my shop, original sold
Also in the series
24″ x 24″ x 1.5″
acrylic, hand-cut paper, and ink on canvas
2020
As a meditation on the physical distance between two people, I hand cut 1400 white strips of paper that each represented a mile. Applying each individually over 1400 painted hash marks let me truly feel the distance. The path is painted over them. Other hand-applied pieces represent years and days – distance in time – and dates as mile-markers.
The original of this painting is in a private collection.
Prints available in my shop
