My work emerges from a lifelong impulse to question and investigate the meaning beneath the surface. I am drawn to the spaces where perception, memory, and intuition intersect, where looking is a form of inquiry and painting, often emotionally driven, becomes my method for navigating what cannot be fully articulated through language. In the studio, I allow each painting to unfold as an exploration rather than a predetermined outcome. As a perfectionist, this is a challenging and a most freeing experience.

Making art offers a way for me to sift through visual and emotional complexities of daily life. Through layered color, shifting textures, and deliberate mark-making, I can process chaos into compositions that feel both grounded and fluid. This process is meditative, but also incisive as mistakes redirect me, revisions reveal unexpected paths, and subtle symbols or forms surface organically. Each piece becomes a negotiation between intuition and intention, between what is essential and what must be released or erased. I don’t plan any of my paintings.

Nature—particularly the ocean, colors and textures of gardens, traces of historical architecture, decay and lines—provide the primary inspiration for my abstractions. Within my paintings, completely abstract and representational elements coexist, creating moments of recognition without dictating the narrative. The forms that emerge serve as reference points yet remain open enough for viewers to locate their own meanings. I love to hear what viewers see in my paintings, that invite viewers into a contemplative space—where my desire to make sense of our world can be felt rather than explained.

I love to think of my work bringing joy to my collectors, their families and guests.