The past few years have unfolded as the most challenging stretch of my life. The sudden and irreversible loss of my only son to complications from multiple sclerosis cast me into an unfamiliar landscape of grief. In his absence, the world shifted beneath my feet—memories grew blurred, emotions took on new shapes, and my sense of self frayed at the edges. What do you become when your favorite person, your greatest influence, is no longer here? I lost touch with my former self, left wandering through shadow and silence.

 I now reside in the embrace of the Blue Ridge Mountains, their vastness and serenity offering me a gentle kind of companionship. The natural beauty surrounding me—towering trees, ever-changing skies, wildflowers nodding in the breeze—serves as a balm for my wounded spirit.

Nature’s rhythm grounds me, coaxing me back toward my center, reminding me of the quiet power of renewal. Nature itself is the wellspring of my inspiration. I reflect its beauty in my art, creating vibrant portraits of women—whom I affectionately call the “Girls”—on canvas. Each piece is adorned with flowers and found treasures from the woods and fields around me. These elements are not merely decorative; they are tokens of hope and healing, stitched into the very fabric of my story. Every artwork I create is a fragment of myself, unique and deeply personal. When people pause to gaze at the “Girls,” my wish is that they feel comfort and peace. I hope that, in each brushstroke and blossom, there is a gentle invitation to rest, a sense that the clouds, trees, and flowers are looking back with kindness. My art is an offering—a bridge from pain to possibility, from solitude to shared understanding.

As I continue this journey, I invite you to walk alongside me. Together, we can honor the past, embrace the present, and find hope in the simple, healing miracles of nature and creativity. May the mountains, the sky, and each piece of art remind us that renewal is always possible, even after the deepest loss.