For many years, my relationship with art was like an engine carefully hidden under layers. That space of quiet distance allowed me to explore what I truly wanted to say, to express dreams and ideas without the noise of the outside world. It gave me the clarity to understand my voice before offering it to others. But as time went on, I felt the pull to step out from behind the scenes and share my work more openly. This, however, was far from simple.
For every artist, myself included, the act of reaching an audience often feels like navigating a fraught relationship. Gallery applications, networking, and seeking exposure can sometimes mirror an abusive dynamic - rejection after rejection, each time returning with hope, only to be met with rules and expectations that aren’t your own. Even when you secure a space to share your work, it’s often temporary and dictated by someone else’s terms, resulting in a shallow connection with the audience and a yearning for something deeper and longer-lasting.
For years, I remained both motivated and drained. The excitement of creating was shadowed by a sense of emptiness, a frustration with feeling perpetually on the fringe. Yet, even amidst the pain, hope persisted.
As the years passed, my commitment to creating never wavered, and new paths began to emerge. I found ways to connect with people that didn’t rely on traditional structures. Working with kids and teens in my studio, I teach them to uncover their inner stories and shape their lives with intention. My work with adults, along with mindfulness practices, has taught me that only I can shape the new paradigm of art and life that I envision.
This shift required deep listening and challenging everything I thought I knew. I had to relearn, to dismantle what didn’t serve me, and to translate my art into a new story - a story of wide reach, direct connection, and stepping out of the safe zone I had grown accustomed to.
It wasn’t easy, and it didn’t happen overnight. The time I spent in reflection, even when uncomfortable, became a gift. I learned to face my inner critics: self-doubt and fear. These voices, though persistent, taught me valuable lessons. By embracing and respecting them, I began to disarm them and lower their volume. They never left entirely, but I learned to coexist with them and move forward regardless.
Graduating from art school and later from psychoanalysis training taught me to think linearly, to follow a path laid out by others. But stepping away from that matrix allowed me to define my own journey. It left me feeling isolated at times, but it also opened doors to explore crafts and ideas I’d never imagined.
This brings me to where I am today. My Etsy store and my work in the studio are the culmination of this journey. If someone had told me years ago that I’d be designing products featuring my paintings, I wouldn’t have believed them. If they’d said I’d spend my afternoons mentoring kids, teens, and adults to explore their inner worlds, I’d have been skeptical. If someone told me I’d lead groups of people to rewrite their own stories, I might have cried from disbelief.
And yet, here I am.
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