As a little girl, I’d hold my wrist in sunlight, watching light glitter across my dark skin. Tiny flashes of brilliance appeared; a sparkle. This simple observation became the foundation of how I paint. I became obsessed with the shine of metals on the chests of kings in old paintings. I wanted to give skin that same reverence. The sparkle of skin became my language; my belief that the body carries its own royalty before anything is placed upon it.

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My mother, a writer and crafter, allowed me to sit at her feet as she worked. I felt like we were teammates, two makers building worlds side by side. I invented a fictional woman who could take on any role I imagined. She stayed with me and became the subject of my paintings.

I take inspiration from  moments that make me feel both enormous and small, often through observation of nature or the cosmos. These moments visually shape the landscapes around the woman I invented as a child. Halos, moons, and reaching hands also appear in my work as a part of a growing visual vocabulary that represents my longing for  ascension: spiritually, intellectually,  physically, or metaphorically.

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My work revolves around a desire for ascension in all its forms. My paintings serve as a visual record of that pursuit, translating my lived experience into allegory. The woman whose skin holds the sunlight acts as my muse, embodying my impulse to rise, reach, and claim space.