I suppose art has always been apart of my life: an innate gift that was active in my childhood. I would spend hours drawing stories about my little make-believe characters, and also hid in my church’s resource room to make glittery creations to hang in my room. Art was the one subject I anticipated with such excitement, always bugging the teachers about the next time we would have it.
As I reflect, art took me out of the daily world and into a limitless realm of wonder where anything stirring in my mind was possible. Unfortunately, my creativity
came to a halt for 10 years when I was immersed in an eating disorder. As my journey toward healing began, my gifted passion slowly returned. Creating again significantly helped me move out of a destructive mode of perfectionism and into a life of freedom to express myself once again.
My art is not perfect, but it reflects the heart of who I am.
It sings a song.
It tells a story unique to me alone, which I find to be a priceless gift that no man can buy.