Being born in Lodge Village and spending part of my life in Brooklyn gave me a layered sense of identity. The vibrancy, spirituality, and community of Saint Vincent shaped my early imagination, while Brooklyn exposed me to the rawness of urban life and a diversity of expression. I think both places, one more introspective and grounded in nature, the other fast-paced and intense, gave me a dual lens through which I experience the world. That shows up in my work through contrast: softness and tension, sacredness and vulnerability, structure and chaos.

Mental health and addiction aren't abstract concepts for me, they're very personal, lived realities. Art has always been a space where I could process and translate those experiences. When I work with charcoal, pastels, or clay, I try to let the material carry some of that weight. Texture plays a huge role; cracks, layers, raw edges. They all speak to the fragility and resilience of the existence. My pieces are emotional maps, in a way. They explore survival, shame, sensuality, and hope, without trying to "solve" anything. It's about honesty and reflection.

I’ve always been drawn to the idea of art as a form of healing, both individually and collectively. Choosing Pre-Art Therapy wasn’t just a career move; it felt like a calling. During my time at Tidewater Community College, I got to explore how art functions in therapeutic spaces, especially for people dealing with trauma or addiction. That knowledge deepened my approach as an artist. I think more intentionally about the emotional impact of my work, and how it might be received by someone going through something heavy. It’s made my process more compassionate, and my art more human.