Artistic expression runs through my genes; from watercolour artists to internationally acclaimed fashion designers to wedding cake creators, the various threads flow into a web of intrigue in my own brand of creativity. When it comes to form, I have no boundaries; pattern drafting is equally art as an acrylic landscape as a wedding dress as a watercolour doodle. However, I will narrow in on painting, which has had the most quantifiable impact on my mental health. My body of work begins with photography and becomes an acrylic impressionism representation, exploring the tension between broad base-strokes and tiny detailed lines, vivid colour and shifting light, to keep the viewer engaged in a constant journey of discovery in one singular moment.
During a season of Major Depression Disorder, my psychologist kindly advised me to make painting part of my mental health hygiene, “like brushing my teeth for my brain”. Painting has always been a safe space to explore and express; one of the few activities that truly calms my brain and gives me experiences of a pain-free existence. Suddenly, I was shocked by my own abilities with a brush. Painting went from an occasional hobby to a lifeline, a shocking display of intuition and perception bleeding out through the brush lines. On the other side of M.D.D. painting has continued as a daily practice of worship. My brain settles. My pain begins to whisper. My spirit soars.
I primarily paint landscapes. Nature itself is a unique form of therapy. My delight in majestic mountains or wind-swept prairies, crashing waves or whispering streams, sunlight forests or secretive desert crags, leads me to engage creation in artistic endeavours. I use my own photographs from various adventures as reference material, seeking to give the audience a glimpse of otherness. A moment of fleeting joy captured twice by the artist: once with the click of a shutter and again with acrylic on canvas.